An Arrow Thru It
by Some1FoundMe
Summary: From the top: Felicity spent six years of her life facing a rotating door of people, some who meant to help her survive but too many who wanted nothing more than to watch her die. It was his presence in her life that she hadn't been prepared for. When he and Sara had rescued her from her own personal hell on Lian Yu, Felicity hadn't expected to fall in love with Oliver Queen.
1. Prologue

**A/N:** Hi all! This is a little different than what I'm used to. I've decided to try my hand at a re-write of the show beginning with season one, episode one. Changing it up a bit and adding a different back story for Felicity. Reviews (compliments, complaints, words of wisdom, etc.) are most welcome! Also, big thanks to my wonderful betas westernbeauty and Emifaith!

 **October 1** **st** **, 2012**

She slipped her hand into his and squeezed, watching the blaze as it rose into the gloomy sky above. The ship was there, just offshore, and she knew that they were safe. Help had come. They were going home.

"It's over," she breathed, her heart racing, "It's finally over."

The pressure on her hand increased but he remained silent beside her. He was frightened. He had every right to be. And she understood, she was frightened, too. They would return to Starling City, to his home, and people would have questions. They would want to know what had happened to him – to them – and he would be expected to provide them with answers.

"We're going to be okay, Oliver."

He nodded, "We're going back."

She moved further into the side of his hard body and his arm came around her shoulders out of habit.

"Back to to your family."

"They can't know what we've done. What I've done. We can't – we can't tell them."

"We won't, Oliver."

She turned her face into his shoulder, breathing him in, and closed her eyes.

The ship was moving closer, a life raft was being dispatched. They didn't have much time.

"What about Sara's family? What do we tell them?"

"The truth. Sara died when the Gambit sank."

"Oliver, I –"

"No, Felicity. Promise me. That's all they need to know. We can't tell them anything else. Promise me you won't tell them."

Felicity thought of the woman that she had called her friend. The woman who had kept her alive, who'd kept her sane. The same woman who had - unintentionally – led her to Oliver.

"Okay. I promise."


	2. Chapter One

**October 6** **th** **, 2012**

The journey from the North China Sea to Starling City took five days. Five days of interrogations, explanations and interviews. The Chinese government had been thorough in obtaining information for their records and by the time the US consulate had stepped in, Felicity had been exhausted. It took effort, concocting lie after lie and trying to keep them all straight. She would've worried that her story differed too much from Oliver's only they hadn't once been separated. She was sure that had something to do with Oliver's angry words and the menacing glare he threw at anyone who came too close to her. She was thankful that he'd kept her close. The idea of being separated from him even for a few hours caused anxiety to unfurl in her belly.

They'd expected the story of their survival and subsequent rescue to be world news. They'd known that, once the media caught wind of the fact that they'd basically lived the "Swiss Family Robinson" for the past five years, every news outlet in the world would descend. So when they arrived at a private airfield outside of the city to no press and heavy security, they'd both wondered who they had to thank for the prolonged sense of privacy.

The door of the small jet was lowered and Felicity clutched tight to Oliver's hand. Their escort, a woman from the embassy that Felicity had – for some unknown reason – distrusted on sight led them off of the plane and into a large hanger where a car waited, presumably to take them home.

"Your mother will meet you at the hospital, Mr. Queen."

Felicity blanched, her gaze snapping to Oliver's.

"No. No hospitals."

He drew his hand from hers, lifting it to cradle the side of her face. She knew that she couldn't hide the trepidation in her eyes. She couldn't hide anything from him.

"Please, Felicity. I need to know that you're okay. That you're _really_ okay."

She'd fought against a physical examination from the moment that one was suggested in Beijing. The thought of a stranger poking and prodding at her caused her stomach to roil and she started to shake her head. Oliver's other hand settled on her other cheek as he captured her face between his rough palms. He pressed his forehead gently to hers and her eyes slipped closed. She balled her fists in the material of his sweater where it stretched across his abdomen.

"Please."

She sighed.

"Okay. But you, too. You have to let them look you over. And you – you can't leave me."

She hoped that the shudder that ran through her would go unnoticed by their escort and if the woman had seen, she was smart enough not to comment.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"Mrs. Queen, I want to prepare you. Your son has survived a great deal. Twenty percent of his body is covered in scar tissue. He has third-degree burns across his torso. He may look and speak and behave like your son but… but Oliver may not be the same man that you remember."

She watched the way Oliver's shoulders tensed as the doctors gentle words filtered in from the hallway. They were waiting in a private room, the same room in which they'd both been examined, and Felicity sat on the bed with her knees drawn to her chest. She sat huddled in the warmth of the oversized sweatshirt someone had given her. She kept her eyes on him in the hope that he would talk to her, that he would find the words to say what he was feeling.

She knew that the reality of their situation had hit him hard when the doctor had finished examining her. The man had been kind, gentle even, and his diagnosis of her injuries had been delivered with a tenderness that had brought tears to her eyes. She knew, of course, what had happened to her. She had lived through every moment of it, but the extent of the damage that had been done to her body had surprised her. It had surprised her and it had caused Oliver the greatest pain she'd ever seen. The anguish in his eyes as the doctor had delivered the news had nearly broken her heart. She knew that he'd had an understanding of what she'd survived before he'd found her. She'd never had the courage to tell him, to relive the hell that was her life for nearly two years, but he was a smart man. He'd guessed at most of it.

He turned as the door opened and Felicity found herself turning, too, getting her first glimpse of Moira Queen.

His mother was beautiful, elegant even as she stared at her son with a grief ravaged expression. A flood of emotions crossed the older woman's face and she took a hesitant step in Oliver's direction. One corner of his mouth lifted and the look in his eyes caused tears to well in her own. She turned away as he drew his mother into his arms.

"Oh my beautiful boy."

"It's okay, Mom. I'm okay."

Felicity tucked her chin to her chest and tried desperately not to think of her own mother. It had been almost six years. Six years since the night her mother had been murdered. The night that Felicity herself had been taken.

"Mom, this is Felicity."

She lifted her head to find Moira Queen staring at her.

The soft tone with which Oliver spoke her name was familiar, intimate, and she was certain that his mother heard the implication there.

"Felicity? And the two of you –"

"She was with me on the island. Felicity and I… we were there together."

Moira's eyes cut to Oliver's and Felicity couldn't blame her for her confusion. Her son had supposedly been marooned on a deserted island for five years. Of course it seemed improbable that he would return with a companion.

"She was on the Gambit when it sank?" his mother asked.

Oliver shook his head once, "No."

"Oliver, you really expect me to believe that this young woman just so happened to have been ... shipwrecked in the same section of the Pacific and that she ended up on this – this Lian Yu with you?"

Felicity saw the way that Oliver bristled at his mother's tone and she slipped off of the bed, coming to stand at his side. She was careful not to touch him as she faced his mother.

"Mrs. Queen, I understand how this must seem to you, to anyone. I mean, the odds of being shipwrecked are probably like one-in-six billion or something astronomical so for two of us to suffer the same fate in the same place would be damn near impossible. Mathematically speaking of course. But it's true, I promise you. If I could do the math right now I'd –"

"Felicity."

Oliver's hand on the small of her back cut off her ramble and she blinked, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry. I – I tend to babble when I'm stressed."

"Mom, please, trust me. Felicity and I know how this sounds but I promise you, it's true."

Felicity worried her lip between her teeth and forced herself not to look away from his mother. Oliver's version of the truth was skewed but she knew that telling his mother what they'd really been through, how she had actually ended up with Oliver on Lian Yu, wouldn't do any of them any good.

"What about your family, Felicity? Won't they want to see you?"

She shook her head, "My family is… my mother is dead. There isn't anyone else."

Silence descended over them and for a long moment, Felicity feared that Moira Queen was about to rip her world away from her. She had spent more than three years at Oliver's side. She couldn't leave him.

"Oliver, sweetheart, can I speak to you alone for a moment?"

She tensed, heart suddenly galloping against her breastbone, and lifted terrified eyes to Oliver. The hand at her back remained, his thumb brushing against her spine once, twice before he stepped away. He bent close to her, his lips at her ear, and asked her to do something she wasn't sure she was capable of in that moment.

"Breathe. I'll be right back. I won't leave you."

She gave him a stiff nod. Every muscle in her body was coiled tight. She was in a cold hospital room, in a city she didn't know, with no one but Oliver to trust, and he'd just left her alone. Her brain, while factoring in that he had promised not to leave her and that he was – most likely –right outside the door, prepared for an attack.

But as she strained to listen for approaching footsteps, she was met instead with the sounds of a conversation she wasn't supposed to be privy to. The walls of the hospital were thin.

"Who is this woman, Oliver?" his mother asked.

She heard his answering sigh and imagined him running his fingers through his freshly shorn hair. Knowing Oliver, he was pacing the halls.

"She's – she's the only person I've had beside me for years, Mom. Do you understand that? I've had no one but Felicity in my life for five years. She knows me, knows what I've been through."

Moira's voice was quiet, her next question gentle and – Felicity thought – unnecessary.

"Do you love her?"

Oliver didn't reply, not verbally, but she knew he'd nodded. She would have responded in the same way.

"Oliver, are you sure? I know that I can't possibly imagine what you've been through, what either of you have been through, but do you really know this woman? Who's to say that she won't want to leave, that she won't decide that she wants to reclaim her life somewhere other than here in Starling City? You've built this bond out of necessity but –"

"Don't ever imply that I don't love her," he snapped suddenly, "And don't for a second try to rationalize our relationship. I love her. For all intents and purposes, she's my wife. And as soon as we can legally manage it, she'll have my ring on her finger."

She didn't hear either of them speak for what seemed like hours before Oliver's voice finally broke the silence.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, "God, Mom, I- I'm sorry."

He'd hugged his mother again, his voice muffled, and she could almost see him burying his face in her shoulder. He'd been too quick to vent his frustration. She understood. They were both tired and trying to internalize all of the things that they couldn't share with his family, with the friends she was sure she'd meet soon, and it was too much too quickly. But he shouldn't have taken his anger out on his mother.

The door to the room opened a few moments later as Oliver returned to her. She relaxed as he came closer, the instinct to defend fading as he approached.

"It's time to go home."

She took his outstretched hand and squeezed, "Let's go home then."

The Queen Mansion was even grander than Felicity had imagined it to be. What she hadn't been prepared for, however, was the darkness of the place where Oliver had grown up. Because the moment they stepped inside, that was the first thing that she noticed. It was dark and cold and did not feel like a place anyone would want to call home.

"Everything is exactly as it was when you left," Moira was saying as they stepped into the foyer.

A man met them there, his dark skin complimented nicely by the sharp suit he wore and he smiled brightly at the pair of them. Felicity couldn't place the man with the people Oliver had told her about so when he held out his hand to Oliver and he tensed, she tensed right along with him.

"Oliver, damn good to see you. We're all so glad you're home."

"Sweetheart, you remember Walter Steele? From your father's office?"

The forced smile on Oliver's face told Felicity that no, he didn't remember Walter, but he wasn't buying his mother's formal introduction either. There was a reason this man was standing in the Queen family foyer as their missing heir returned.

"Ollie!"

For the first time since leaving the hospital, Oliver released her. She knew before she saw the dark-haired girl descending the stairs that the voice belonged to his little sister, Thea.

"Hey, Speedy."

A small body collided with Oliver's larger one at the foot of the stairs and he wrapped his sister in a tight embrace.

"I knew it," Thea announced happily, "I knew you were alive."

When Oliver held her at arm's length and shook his head, Felicity saw the first real smile light his face. Thea was the one person he had been desperate to see.

"And you are?"

Felicity blinked, her eyes widening as she found Thea Queen looking at her expectantly. She glanced helplessly at Oliver, unsure of where to begin.

" Smoak."

Thea glared at her brother, an expression typical of a seventeen year old girl, and Felicity cringed internally.

"Seriously, Ollie? You come home after five years of letting us all think you're dead and you bring some random chick with you? Where'd you find her? On the flight home from China?"

Felicity opened her mouth to correct Thea's assumption only to have Oliver cut her off.

"Speedy, you don't know what you're talking about. And before you go slinging accusations at people, why not try being polite? I know you have manners. At least you used to. But because I don't appreciate your tone or your implication, I'll tell you what I told Mom. Felicity was with me there," he explained, "On the island."

Thea's incredulous expression softened, her shoulders dropping, and she glanced quickly at Felicity. Her dark eyes were critical as they examined her from head to toe. She knew the clothes the hospital had given her did nothing for her but they were all she had. Her face was free of makeup and her long chestnut hair hung limply down her back. She could only imagine what the younger woman saw when she looked at her.

"I'm sorry," she finally muttered, cutting her gaze back to her brother, "I shouldn't have said that. I just – I wasn't expecting you to bring someone back with you. At least… at least not someone other than dad or Sara."

The sadness that overtook Thea's features had Felicity taking a step toward Oliver's sister. She settled a hand and the young woman's shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze.

"It's okay. I know my being here is – is a shock to everyone," her eyes traveled around the room, catching the eye of each member of Oliver's family, "I'm just – It's just that…"

Oliver came back to her then, reaching for her hand. His warm palm pressed against her own drew her back from the edge of the darkness that could so easily overwhelm her and she glanced up at him in relief. It was too easy to get lost in the memories of where they'd been, of what they'd done. They would need each other to get through the day-to-day without completely losing themselves.

"Felicity has no family, Thea. She has no home to go to," he explained.

"How did you end up there? With Oliver? Did your yacht sink, too?"

Oliver stiffened at her side in response to his sister's glib tone but Felicity just forced a smile and shook her head.

"No, I –"

"We're going to my room," Oliver interjected, "It's been a long couple of days and I don't know about Felicity, but I'd like to rest for a few hours. Maybe take a hot shower."

She didn't argue with him even as her cheeks heated. He had purposely cut off her conversation with Thea and she felt a distinct annoyance at having him speak for her. But she kept the remarks churning in her mind to herself until the door to his bedroom closed behind her. She didn't even have time to look around before they came tumbling out.

"I don't need you to speak for me, Oliver. I know you don't want your family to know what happened on Lian Yu and I had no intention of telling Thea how I really got there. I mean, honestly, did you think I was going to tell her that – after seeing someone murder my mother –"

She choked on the words and hot tears pricked her eyes and she shook her head, sending them falling down her cheeks. She wasn't sure exactly why she was crying. Yes, she was upset that he'd cut off what could have been a significant moment of bonding between herself and her someday-soon-to-be sister-in-law but Felicity knew better.

They'd had a long few days. Days full of more people than she'd seen in months. People asking her question after question, wanting to know every detail of her life since she'd been taken six years prior. People she had no intention of speaking to or ever seeing again. And the one person that she had needed in all of that had been Oliver. And he'd been there for every step.

He closed the distance between them wordlessly and pulled her into the circle of his arms, her body flush against his, and she tucked her head beneath his chin.

"God, I'm sorry," she whispered, sniffling, "I don't know what's wrong with me."

Oliver was silent, his lack of response causing a frisson of alarm to spike inside of her, but before she could ask, he spoke.

"You never told me. I knew something had happened to you. I knew they'd – I knew they'd hurt you but I had no idea. The first time I touched you, when Sara and I found you on the Amazo and I carried you out of there, you were so small and scared, but you fought against me like a wild animal. You didn't want me to touch you. If Sara hadn't been there, I don't think you would've calmed down enough for me to carry you."

Felicity wrapped her arms around his back, anchoring herself to him, and sighed heavily.

"I tried to pretend it was just a bad dream. I didn't want to believe that anyone could be so cruel… that anyone would knowingly let that happen. But he didn't care. He just wanted to break me. He thought that I knew something, that my father had shared some secret with me before he'd died but – but there was nothing. I didn't know for the longest time what it was they thought I was supposed to know."

"I'm so sorry, Felicity. I'm sorry Sara and I weren't able to find you sooner. I'm sorry that she wasn't able to save you sooner."

She drew back just enough so that she could tip her face up and meet his eyes. They were haunted, like her own probably were, and she smiled at him with genuine affection. One of his hands slipped into her hair, brushing the shell of her ear, and she turned to press her lips into his palm.

"It doesn't matter how long it took you to get there, Oliver. You saved my life just the same."

He dipped his head and she lifted onto her toes, meeting his mouth halfway.

The kiss was soft, gentle and full of a love so strong that it still overwhelmed her. He kissed her as if she was his only source of oxygen, as If he could not survive without kissing her, and she understood. She felt the same way.


	3. Chapter Two

**A/N:** Well, it wasn't exactly my intention to post a new chapter of this the day of the premier but… yay, it's premier day and I've got a new chapter! Anywho, sorry it took so long. Let's hope the next chapter comes to me a little quicker. Big thanks to westernbeauty for beta'ing for me

 **An Arrow Thru It**

 **October 7** **th** **, 2012**

Dinner with Tommy Merlyn wasn't exactly what she'd expected. Oliver's best friend was boisterous and charming, cracking jokes and flashing a million dollar smile every few minutes and Felicity wasn't sure how she was supposed to respond.

She'd known that it would be difficult, fitting back in, being around people again after years of being isolated. It had been just her and Oliver for the better part of three years and now they were home, he was home, and she couldn't quite wrap her head around the happy façade that he had adopted. And as she sat in the Queen family's dining room with Oliver to her left, Thea and Tommy seated opposite them, she wondered how anyone could possibly believe that this man was truly Oliver Queen.

The warm hand that settled on her thigh startled her and she cast a quick glance in his direction. The chatter around them continued even as Oliver leaned close, his voice low enough that only she would hear.

"What's wrong?"

She hadn't realized until he'd put a stop to it that her leg had been incessantly bouncing as she'd struggled not to fidget in her seat.

Shaking her head, she gave him a forced smile.

"Nothing."

The fact that his eyes reflected his understanding sent a rush of relief through her. He was as uncomfortable as she was, out of his element in his own home, and the fact that the warmth of his hand on her knee gave her strength reassured her that they were still in this together. He was still with her.

"So what's the deal with this?" Tommy asked then, the sound of his voice drawing Felicity's attention from Oliver's eyes, "You get shipwrecked on a deserted island and come home with a hot girlfriend? Man, you have all the luck!"

A brief flash of annoyance flickered across Oliver's face before the façade slipped back into place as he turned to address his friend.

Felicity's eyes dropped to her plate as Oliver's standard reply filtered in one ear and out the other while she pushed around a pile of roasted potatoes with her fork. It wasn't until a muttered apology, spoken in Oliver's gruff voice, reached her that she lifted her gaze again. Silence had settled over the table and she understood why.

"I didn't realize you'd studied Russian at university, Oliver," Walter mused.

Oliver shrugged, the gesture a brief dismissal, even as she stiffened in her seat.

"And I didn't realize you wanted to sleep with my mother, Walter."

The hand that settled on her knee had grown uncomfortably tense and Felicity covered it with her own, gently squeezing his fingers.

"Oliver…"

"Walter and I are married, Oliver."

His lack of response was telling, at least to her, and Felicity held her breath as she waited for him to work through his emotions. He wouldn't show his anger to his family, wouldn't let them see his disappointment, but she knew that it was there.

They'd given up on him, she was sure that was what he was thinking. It was what he'd been worried about. They'd given up hope that he would survive, that Robert would survive, and as much as she knew it hurt him, she couldn't blame them. It had been five years since the Gambit had sunk in the North China Sea. Their yacht had been taken down in a storm and there'd been no hope that anyone had survived. It was only natural that his family had moved on.

The chair beside her was pushed away from the table and the warmth of Oliver's hand on her knee suddenly dissipated. He stood, his gaze locked on his mother down the length of the table.

"May I be excused?"

For a long moment, Moira simply stared at her son. Felicity's heart ached for them both as she observed the scene.

"Of course, Oliver."

He nodded once before turning to Tommy.

"We're still on for tomorrow, right?"

Tommy nodded, "Yeah, man, tomorrow."

And then he was gone, leaving Felicity alone with a family she had only just met in an uncomfortable silence.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, "I –"

"Felicity, dear, please, it's alright. Oliver is… he'll need time to adjust to this. You both will."

She nodded, her face suddenly warm, and made the mistake of meeting Thea's eyes across the table. Oliver's little sister was looking at her with a mix of pity and confusion. She found she didn't really appreciate either.

"He's different," Thea observed, "In general. But with you… he's different."

She shrugged, "I can't say that I agree. I didn't know Oliver before – before all of this."

The youngest Queen snorted, ducking her head, and Felicity barely heard her muttered reply.

"Yeah, lucky you."

* * *

She kept her pace behind him. Cool autumn air tugged at her hair, pulling it loose from the band she'd restrained it with, but Felicity didn't mind. She would never again complain about running, especially if she wasn't running _from_ something. On the island there had always been danger, a threat, something or someone that was forcing them to run. But to run for sport, to clear her head, that was something of a luxury. And it was one, she thought, she could really appreciate.

Oliver was nearly twenty yards ahead of her and she knew that he was fully aware of her presence. There was no question. But she hadn't been asked to join him on his run and while she understood he needed time alone, to shake loose the immense weight of the guilt he carried, she didn't want to leave him alone for long.

The path they took around his family's estate gave her an opportunity to see the expansive property. It was acres of manicured lawns and tall, fortified fences. She spotted at least three guard posts around the grounds, men dressed in black blending in with the late night sky, the bulges at their hips an obvious indication that they were armed. It disturbed her, on some level, that his family felt that they needed such protection. She didn't know much about the Queen family beyond what little Oliver had felt the need to share but she doubted that it was only their net worth that had made Moira Queen paranoid about her family's safety.

Ahead of her, she watched Oliver slow to a stop and veer slightly off the path they'd cut, ducking into a dense line of trees. She followed, narrowly avoiding an uplifted tree root, and slammed hard into the solid chest of the man she'd grown to know so well in the last few years.

Lifting her eyes to meet his in the darkness, Felicity opened her mouth to question what exactly they were doing only to be silenced as Oliver's mouth claimed hers.

The startled gasp that escaped her quickly turned into a moan as his hands slid into her hair, fingers pulling loose her ponytail and digging into her scalp. Her own hands scrabbling for purchase, gripping fistfuls of his sweat-dampened t-shirt, and she pressed up on her toes to meet his demanding lips. His passion was relentless, the kiss overwhelming, and an inferno of need bloomed in her belly.

They hadn't been alone, truly alone, in days. Ever since they'd been rescued from Lian Yu they had been surrounded by people. It wasn't as if they'd been honeymooning on the island but they hadn't been bothered. They'd only had each other and there'd been no one standing in their way.

Felicity pulled away, sucking in a much needed breath, and rested her forehead against his chest.

"Oliver."

He shook his head, drawing her closer, and pressed his lips to the top of her head.

"Sorry. I'm sorry. I just –"

She slipped her arms around his waist and held on. Her heart hammered in her chest as she tried to reclaim the breath he'd stolen from her.

Everything about this new reality of theirs felt off, skewed, and she was nowhere close to feeling comfortable. But that discomfort didn't change how she felt about the man whose arms held her. It didn't change who they were together. Nothing could change that. And in that moment, Felicity decided that she needed the familiarity of his love, his passion.

She stepped into him further, her chest flush with his, and he relented as she used her body to press him further into the cover of the trees around them, only stopping when his back hit the stone wall that encircled the compound. He needed no further encouragement from her and when his large hands slid down the length of her body to grasp the backs of her thighs, she used her arms around his neck for leverage. As he lifted her, her legs wound around his hips.

When their lips met a moment later, it was in a bruising kiss that left her breathless yet again. His palms were hot where they touched her, scorching her even through the layers of her clothes, and when she rolled her hips against his, he groaned into her mouth.

"Felicity."

"Oliver, please. Please, I need you."

* * *

She woke to an empty bed and cool damp sheets.

Felicity sat up, blinking the sleep from her eyes, and looked around. The window in the alcove was open, the raging storm outside sending rain in to coat the floor and she caught sight of Oliver's form as lightning struck. She was certain that her heart was breaking as she scrambled from the bed, dropping to her knees beside him where he lay curled into himself beneath the window.

She reached for him, giving his shoulder a gentle shake. The t-shirt he wore was soaked through.

"Oliver. Oliver, wake up."

He jerked back, his eyes screwed shut, and as she reached for him again, a brief moment of hesitation hit her.

His arm struck out suddenly, catching her on the chin, and she fell back. Moving on reflex, Felicity darted away from him as quickly as possible, only to end up on her back with the full weight of Oliver bearing down on her. His arm across her throat pinned her to the floor as his chest heaved. She gasped for air and clawed at his forearm.

"Oliver!" she cried, her voice broken, "Oliver, stop!"

He blinked, the terror on his face still so raw and so real that it tore at her heart even further as she fought against him.

"Oliver!"

He blinked again, the haze clearing slowly, and she recognized it the moment he came back to himself.

"Felicity."

His voice cracked as her name fell from his lips and suddenly he was on the other side of the room, his back pressed to the wall beneath the window. His hands trembled at his sides.

"I'm so sorry. I'm – I – I'm sorry."

Felicity resisted the urge to rub at her aching throat, deciding that addressing Oliver's demons was more important than creating new ones for him. She inched towards him slowly.

"It's okay, Oliver. I'm okay."

He shook his head and closed his eyes, his face awash in agony.

"I hurt you."

She bit back a sigh.

"Oliver, it was an accident. You know that I – of all people – understand. You know that I know that you didn't mean it. This isn't the first time that –"

"Don't. Please don't."

She did sigh then, closing the distance between them and drawing him to her chest. It took longer than she had hoped for his arms to come around her, for him to relax into her, and she couldn't help wondering how long it would be before they were both able to sleep peacefully through the night.

"We're going to be okay, Oliver. Maybe not today or tomorrow. Hell, maybe not next year. But someday we'll be okay."

His warm breath ghosted over the exposed skin of her throat.

"You make it easier."

She let out a snort of derision.

"Right. When I was so drugged and useless on the Amazo that you literally had to carry me everywhere? Or when you had to teach me how to hold a gun after I accidentally clipped Sara in the shoulder? Pretty sure having to babysit me from the moment you met me did nothing to make your life easier."

His lips brushed across her shoulder when he spoke next, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Even then. You gave me a reason to fight. You gave me purpose."

She carded her fingers through his hair.

"And you were strong for me, Oliver. You did so much. You got us home. But now that we're here, let me take some of the weight from your shoulders. Let me share some of the burden. What happened on Lian Yu, it happened to both of us. We've both done things that we're ashamed of. Awful, horrible things, but we did what we had to do to survive."

Oliver sighed and drew back, gazing into her eyes with his own haunted blue ones. Calloused fingers brushed the hair from her eyes.

"Felicity. You're remarkable."

She felt her face flush and she smiled, turning to press her lips to his palm.

"Thank you for remarking on it."

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"I have to agree with, Lis. I mean, come on Ollie, I know Laurel. This isn't going to go over well. You sure you want to do this?"

Felicity watched Oliver's jaw clench as they drove through the streets of Starling City with Tommy at the wheel. She wasn't sure if his annoyance was directed at Tommy's newly minted nickname for her or if it was the state of his city that was rubbing him the wrong way. Because, Felicity had to admit, the city was looking pretty grim.

"I need to talk to her. Sara…"

Felicity leaned forward and set her chin on his shoulder.

"You don't have to do this now, Oliver. You just got home. You could –"

He shook his head.

"I want to."

She wanted to argue, to tell him that he really, _really,_ didn't. But her argument couldn't be made in front of Tommy.

They had agreed that Sara had died on the Gambit when it sank. They'd agreed that she wouldn't mention her, that she would act as if she'd never met the woman that Oliver had run away with. But Felicity hated the idea that she couldn't let people know how wonderful Sara was. How brave and resilient and strong.

A gust of cool air brushed across her face as Oliver opened his door.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," he told her.

She nodded. While staying in the car with Tommy parked outside of the CNRI building in The Glades was not her idea of a good time, she wasn't interested in meeting Oliver's one-time love, Laurel Lance. Sara's big sister. Beautiful, smart, driven. Felicity had heard enough about the other woman to know that she wouldn't react kindly to finding Felicity at Oliver's side. Not after everything that had happened.

"She isn't a bad person, you know."

Her eyes shifted from the view outside of her window, Oliver entering the building, to Tommy Merlyn.

"I know."

He nodded once, his gaze flickering between her and the place where Sara's sister worked. Felicity observed the slight shift in his posture, the way his face softened slightly as he spoke of Laurel. He had feelings for her. Whether or not those feelings were mutual remained to be seen but she knew they were there. They were written clearly on his face.

"She went through hell when we got word of the accident," Tommy continued, "First because of Ollie and then – then when they told us that Sara was with them…"

He shook his head.

Felicity had heard enough about Oliver's past, both from the man himself and from Sara before she'd died, to know that he hadn't been the perfect boyfriend that Laurel had expected him to be. He'd been young and reckless and had hurt her in a way that Felicity found to be unforgiveable. He could only blame so much of his indiscretion on his youth.

"Anyway, she isn't a bad person. Actually, CNRI does a lot of good for the city. And Laurel's a good lawyer."

Felicity nodded absently, turning back to the building that they were parked in front of.

"Maybe she'll forgive him someday. Don't see it happening too soon, of course, but maybe someday."

"She has every right to be angry," Felicity muttered, "Oliver… Oliver wasn't a good guy back then."

"But he is now?"

She glanced at Tommy and found him watching her with interest. She shrugged.

"The man that I know is good," she told him, "He's kind and respectful. He's been through hell and – and so much more but he saved my life, Tommy. He got me out of that god awful place and he brought me home. I didn't know Oliver the way that you knew him. I didn't know him before the island. But that place… that place changed him. It changed me, too. There's so much you don't know and I-"

She bit her lip hard to keep from continuing. She'd promised Oliver that they wouldn't discuss the island. They wouldn't tell anyone what they'd survived. There was no need to. No one would understand. Sure they would empathize, they would try to feel something for the hell that they'd both been through, but no one could truly know the depth and depravity of that place. Of the years that they had both spent there.

Felicity turned to the window again and was unsurprised to find Oliver exiting the building with a tall, lithe brunette beside him. Laurel Lance was more gorgeous than she'd previously imagined and a small niggling of jealousy flared in her chest. They walked together up the block, away from CNRI and away from the car where she sat waiting with Tommy.

It wasn't long before Laurel's posture changed, grew more defensive, her spine going ridged, and when she turned on her heel and stormed away from Oliver, Felicity watched his face fall for just a moment. It wasn't until she realized that Laurel was headed straight for the car that she shrank back away from the window, suddenly wishing that she were anywhere else.

Tommy let the passenger side window slide down and Laurel leaned into the car.

"How did you think that would go, Tommy?" she snapped.

He shrugged, having the decency to look slightly guilty, "About like that."

Laurel huffed, completely ignoring Felicity, and pushed away from the car. She didn't acknowledge Oliver as she passed him on her way back into the building.

The door opened again a moment later and Oliver dropped into his seat.

"Where to now, man?"

Oliver sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face, and glanced at her over his shoulder. Felicity gave him an encouraging smile and wove her hand between his seat and the door, sliding her hand into his.

"My father's factory. I want to take a look at it."

Tommy started the car.

"Sure thing. Then I vote for lunch and drinks. I need one after that."

A/N 2: Thanks westernbeauty for letting me know that took out my line breaks... grr. Sometimes.


	4. Chapter Three

**A/N:** … and somehow I managed to finish another chapter. Um, not sure what happened or how it happened but I'm blaming this sudden urge to write on the season four premier Can't say much because I don't want to spoil it for anyone but I have to say, I loved it! Anyhow, thanks again to my beta westernbeauty and thank you to everyone who has liked / favorited this fic and to everyone who has reviewed!

 **An Arrow Thru It**

 **October 7** **th** **, 2012**

Pain shot through her side like a hundred bee stings all at once backed by a thousand volts of electricity. She came to with a scream on her lips and tears in her eyes. She didn't know where she was exactly but the room was dark, only a faint light filtering in from overhead, and as blood rushed in her ears, she could hear the din of voices around her. Oliver's voice cut through the rest of them and helped lift the fog that had settled over her. She'd been drugged. The last memory she'd had had been walking around the outskirts of the old Queen steel factory with Tommy and Oliver.

"I'll ask you again. Did your father survive that accident? Did he tell you anything?"

Felicity blinked against the ache radiating through her abdomen and met Oliver's eyes where he sat opposite her. Her hands were bound behind her back, plastic zip ties by the feel of them, and she gave them an experimental tug. It wouldn't take much for her to break loose which meant that Oliver already had.

One of their captors stood behind her, the air shifting around her indicating his size as he encroached into her personal space once again, and she heard the sizzle of the taser in his hand as it came alive.

"Did he tell you anything?"

The question was shouted in Oliver's direction by the first man she'd seen. He stood between them but far enough to the side to make sure that Oliver had an unobstructed view of her as the second captor pressed the taser into her side again.

Felicity bit back a scream as a new wave of pain shot through her. Her lungs squeezed, her throat closing, and she gagged as a wave of saliva filled her mouth.

"Leave her alone!" Oliver growled, his voice menacing.

But his anger didn't deter either of the men holding them. The first, the only one who seemed to know how to speak, leaned closer to him.

"What did your father tell you?"

Felicity leaned heavily into the back of her chair and watched Oliver suck air into his lungs. He was watching her, eyes glued to hers, but his words were not directed at her.

"He told me that I'm going to kill you."

The man laughed, his disbelief evident in the sound, but Felicity braced herself for what she knew was coming.

"Yeah, sure. In case you haven't noticed, you're zip-cuffed to that chair."

Oliver thrust his hands in front of him, the act startling both men, and he used the distraction to his advantage. She watched as he grabbed the chair he'd been restrained to and swung it at the man closest to him. It splintered, pieces flying, and Oliver disarmed the masked man in a matter of seconds.

Gunfire erupted suddenly over her shoulder and Felicity reacted, tipping herself sideways, her chair crashing to the floor. She kept her eyes glued to Oliver as he used the body of one of their captors to shield himself and tried not to flinch as bullets pierced the man's chest. She freed her hands the way she'd been taught, rolling onto her side and sweeping her leg around to clip the man who'd tased her. He went down and the gun he held was dislodged from his hand, skittering across the concrete floor.

Oliver dove for the gun as a third man appeared.

"Felicity, get Tommy and get out!"

His barked order reached her ears a little too late and before she could heed him, the man she'd taken down tackled her, throwing her back hard enough that her head cracked against the floor and stars erupted in front of her eyes. Felicity fought against him, swiping at his face, aiming for his eyes. His hands went for her throat, the entire weight of his body anchoring her to the floor, and she dug her nails into his cheeks as his grip tightened. She was gasping for breath and felt consciousness slipping away from her but she continued her assault, changing direction and pressing her thumbs into his eye sockets. She applied as much pressure as she was able, using what little strength she had left until she felt the soft tissue under her thumb begin to give.

Her attacker howled in pain and fell back, giving her enough time to stagger to her feet and look around. Tommy was lying on a pile of discarded pallets a few feet from where she and Oliver had been restrained. He was unconscious but from what she could see he was unharmed. Oliver had disappeared and her heart lurched in her chest. She knew he'd gone after the third man and that he could take care of himself, but worry ate at her gut.

The man she'd fought off was gone and she stumbled over to where Tommy lay, falling to her knees beside him and pulling at his restraints. She didn't know how they were going to explain what had happened to anyone but she was glad that Tommy had remained unconscious for the entirety of the situation. The last thing that they needed was anyone asking more questions.

* * *

Oliver held her hand tightly in his. They were pressed side to side on the sofa in the living room at the Queen Mansion and Tommy sat on Oliver's other side. A detective from the SCPD entered the room, circling around to stand in front of them, and she felt Oliver stiffen.

"Mr. Queen."

"Detective."

"So this is really the story you three are going with?" the detective asked, his tone dripping with disbelief, "A guy in a green hood flew in and single handedly took out three armed kidnappers? Who is he? Why would he do that?"

Oliver shrugged, "Find him and you can ask."

The story was full of holes in her opinion and hard to swallow but she had known that there was no way they'd be telling the police the truth. All three of the men who had taken them were dead. The third, the man that Felicity had mauled, had encountered Oliver on his way out of the warehouse. His neck had been broken.

The detective grunted and turned to Tommy.

"What about you? You seen the hood guy?"

He held out a crude sketch of a man with a hood pulled low over his face, leaving only his jawline visible. Felicity would've recognized that jaw anywhere but it seemed that the people closest to Oliver couldn't make him out based on that feature alone.

Tommy shook his head, "I didn't… I don't know. Everything was blurry. I was pretty out of it."

The detective that they'd originally given their statements to returned to the room and the man in front of them looked at his partner.

"Were you able to identify any of the men?"

The first detective – Detective Hilton – shook his head.

"No. Scrubbed weapons. These guys were pros."

Detective Hilton's partner turned to Moira and Walter.

"Probably figured you'd pay a king's ransom – or a Queen's ransom, as it were – to get your boy back. After all, a parent would do anything to keep their child safe."

The hostility in the detective's tone went unnoticed by none of them. Oliver's fingers tightened around hers and Felicity glanced at his face, unsurprised to find the mask he'd adopted firmly in place. When she looked up at his mother just a few feet from them, she noticed that Moira was clinging tightly to Walter's hand the way that Oliver held onto hers. Her posture was rigid.

"I don't find your tone appropriate, Detective Lance."

Lance. So this man was Sara and Laurel's father. Understanding sunk in and even though she knew that Oliver wasn't to blame for what had happened to Sara, Felicity couldn't help but sympathize with the detective. He'd lost his daughter but the Queen family had found their son.

"If Oliver or Felicity can think of anything useful, we'll contact you. Thank you for coming, gentlemen."

Walter's dismissal of the detectives was welcomed and Felicity watched them go, remaining silent as an air of unease swallowed the room.

"Well," Tommy said eventually, "That was fun."

He got to his feet slowly, the drugs in his system still making him sluggish, and clapped Oliver on the shoulder.

"Until next time, buddy. I think I'm going to go home and sleep for a week."

Oliver stood and pulled Tommy into a one-armed hug.

"You sure you're okay to drive? We can have someone take you home."

Tommy shook his head, "I'm good man. And hey, we can talk in a couple of days about your welcome home party."

Felicity bit back the refusal that bubbled up inside of her. They didn't need a party. Oliver didn't need a party. It was a ridiculous idea and she willed Oliver to shoot his friend down.

"Yeah, sure, we'll talk."

She sighed, waiting until Tommy had made his exit before she stood and slipped her hand into Oliver's again.

"I'm going to go upstairs and shower," she said softly, "Maybe take a nap."

Her entire body ached from the effects of the taser. They hadn't reported that part of the attack to the police. Instead Oliver had decided that they would say that she – like Tommy - had been drugged and hadn't seen much. Any other explanation would draw too much suspicion, too many questions.

Oliver's lips skimmed across her forehead.

"I'll be up in a minute," he murmured.

She left the room without turning back. Moira's voice was faint as she addressed her son and Felicity chose not to listen. She could understand his family's concern. He'd been in Starling City for only two days and already he'd been kidnapped. But something about their abduction had her seriously concerned. Who could have orchestrated something with professionals so quickly? And what was the motivation? What – besides the list – had Robert Queen been hiding? Their captors had been fixated on something that they believed Oliver knew, something he had learned from Robert, but they'd only just begun their mission. She'd hardly had time to begin digging into the names in the notebook. So, she wondered, who else knew of its existence? Was it someone else on the list? Someone who's name they'd yet to uncover?

She shook her head as she closed the bedroom door behind her. If she knew Oliver, he would do everything in his power to find out and if that meant donning the real hood that she knew remained locked in his chest, if it meant killing people to get answers, then so be it. Their journey home may have been at its end, but the mission that Robert had given his son before his death was only just beginning.

* * *

She sat in the massive soaker tub in the spa-like bathroom she and Oliver shared.

The extreme heat of the water helped ease the stiffness in her side and the heady scent of lavender that filled the room made her sleepy.

The soft creak of the door opening indicated that she was no longer alone and Felicity didn't need to open her eyes to know that Oliver had decided to join her. She remained where she was, her head tipped back against the lip of the tub, bubbles reaching almost to her shoulders, until his fingertips skimmed across the top of her head. She sat up and shuffled forward, making room for him behind her, and when he'd sunk into the water with her cradled between his muscular legs, she relaxed back into his chest.

"Are you alright?" he asked her.

His hand slid across the patch of tender skin below her left breast where the prongs of the taser had been jammed. She shrugged.

"I've lived through worse."

Oliver sighed, the movement disturbing the loose tendrils of hair that hung around her face, and his hand slid lower to caress the series of scars that marred her hips and abdomen.

She didn't flinch at the touch as she once would have. When she had first seen the evidence of what had been done to her, she'd been repulsed. The wounds hadn't been treated properly and the angry red flesh had disgusted her. The torn skin and bloody gouges had turned her stomach but – for some reason she wasn't able to put into words – it was the bruises that had surrounded the incisions that had stirred the strongest reaction within her. She had been furious, enraged, and an overwhelming need for retribution had taken hold of her. It had been bad enough living through what they had done but to be scarred for the rest of her life with a physical reminder of what she had endured had made something inside of her snap.

"Do they still bother you?"

Oliver's question was whispered in the privacy of the walls they had erected around themselves. It was asked out of concern and with a gentleness that she knew he reserved solely for her. And she loved him all the more for it.

"Only for the same reason that your scars bother you," she confirmed, "I see them and I remember. I think of all of the pain and the terror that I – that we all endured in that place and I wish that I could just forget. But I can't forget. I can't forget and I can't ignore who I've become. I'm not my scars just like you're not yours, but they are a part of me. The experiences that I've had in the last five years have molded me into the person that I am."

Oliver's lips brushed against the crook of her neck, the kiss a slow caress, and she rested her arms on tops of his where they were wrapped around her.

"I love that person. I love you."

She smiled, turning her head to capture his mouth quickly.

"I love you, too."

Silence fell over them and she rested against him, her eyes slipping closed once again. But she knew that there was more to discuss, other matters that they couldn't ignore.

"What are we going to do about the list?" she asked after a long moment, "What happened today has to have something to do with that notebook, you can't deny that, so where do we start?"

His arms tightened around her.

"Adam Hunt."

Felicity had heard the name on the news just that morning and she'd known that he was on the list but they hadn't had time to look into him. She had set up a search on Oliver's computer but they'd left with Tommy shortly after and she hadn't had the chance to see what her search had found.

"Why start there?"

Oliver shrugged, "He's in the news, the public eye. We need to make a statement."

"You want people to know? About the hood? About your mission?"

He shook his head, "Not exactly. But these people are destroying this city and they need to know that they have a reason to be afraid. That there is someone out there that they should fear, someone who can stop them."

Felicity turned to look him in the eye, his words shaking her more than she would admit.

"I promised to help you, Oliver, in any way that I can, but we need to come up with a stronger game plan. We need to create contingencies. I don't want you to get hurt. I don't – I can't lose you."

She hadn't realized that her grip on his forearms had changed, that her fingernails were digging into his flesh, until he shifted and pulled free of her grip. He grasped her hands gently, tangling their fingers together before resting their joined hands on her stomach.

"I vowed to myself and to my father that I would right his wrongs, that I would do whatever I could to save this city. I won't turn my back on that."

"I'm not asking you to, Oliver. I just want you to be safe, that's all."

"I promise you that I will take whatever precautions you want me to take. Whatever makes you more comfortable. But I'll be fine. Because I have you by my side, Felicity. You are the smartest person that I have ever met and you are so incredibly strong. I'll be fine as long as I have you standing with me."

She wanted to tell him that the only precaution she wanted him to take would be to give up his mission and just live his life with her. But how could she? How could she ask him to give up his own vengeance when the need to exact her revenge weighed heavily on her every day?

"And the party Tommy plans on throwing?" she questioned, "I don't exactly see that as being cautious. Or necessary, to be honest. Why did you agree to that in the first place?"

"Because if I can convince him to choose the right venue, I can get us in close proximity to Hunt."

She frowned, "How long have you known that Hunt would be the first target?"

Oliver shrugged but didn't reply and Felicity twisted around to face him again.

"Oliver."

"Since we went by CNRI this 's office is handling the cases for Hunt's victims."

She shook her head, "Oliver, we agreed that we wouldn't let this get personal, no more than it already is. If you think you owe her something, then you're wrong. You don't owe Laurel Lance anything. Yes, you were not a good boyfriend to her. Yes, you hurt her, cheated on her. And sure, the only reason that Sara – that Sara ended up on Lian Yu was because she snuck away with you, but none of those things have indebted you to Laurel."

Felicity could practically hear his teeth grinding as he fought the urge to snap at her. His relationship with Laurel was a topic she usually avoided. Talk of any of his previous relationship, really, but she wouldn't allow him to wallow in his guilt. Guilt that he had spent five years in hell atoning for. He didn't owe any of them anything. They didn't know him.

"Hunt is on the list. One way or another, he's going to pay for what he's done to the people of this city."

She let his words hang in the air between them for a minute, let the implication sink in, before she let her head fall back against his shoulder.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

She nodded, "Yes, Oliver. Adam Hunt is the first name we'll cross off the list. But if we're really going to take up this mission, we'll need to find somewhere safe to operate out of. A base, I guess. I take it that's why you were so interested in visiting your father's old factory today?"

"We'll go back tomorrow."

"Tomorrow sounds good."

Oliver's stubbled jaw scraped at the tender flesh of her throat and her head rolled to the side of its own accord, giving him more access.

"Tonight I don't intend to leave this room."

She smiled, turning her head and allowing her words to ghost over his lips.

"Sounds good to me."


	5. Chapter Four

**A/N:** Thanks again to westernbeauty for beta'ing this fic for me. You're the greatest!

 **October 8** **th** **, 2012**

Felicity stood at the edge of the hole and watched as Oliver repelled himself down into the darkness. She knew that he expected her to follow him, and she would, but the thought of plunging feet first into the unknown terrified her. He knew that she was afraid of heights.

"It's clear," he called from below, "I'm right here, Felicity. I'll catch you."

She sighed wearily, wringing her hands together.

"You can't seriously tell me that there isn't an easier way to do this. Aren't there stairs or an elevator or something?"

She could picture the amused smirk that she was certain lit up his face at that moment.

"There's no clear path except for this one. It's safe, I promise. I won't let you fall."

Felicity huffed out a breath of frustration before clutching the rope tightly with both hands and turning her back to the massive hole in the floor. She moved to the edge carefully, winding a length of rope around one ankle, and stepped off.

The air rushed from her lungs as she slid down quickly, the rough twine slipping easily between her glove-encased hands.

As promised, Oliver caught her as she neared the bottom, his strong fingers digging into her hips and slowing her momentum. She released the rope and fell back against him. He gave an exaggerated groan and she laughed.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked.

She shrugged and stepped out of his embrace. She looked around at the space he intended to use as a base of operations, throwing a quick grin over her shoulder.

"You take me to all the nicest places," she teased, moving over to an ancient piece of machinery that had definitely seen better days, "A cruise ship in the North China Sea, a lush tropical island with an assortment of landmines and mercenaries, and now this gorgeous, state-of-the-art factory."

Oliver laughed and slid his arms around her waist, tugging her back against his body.

"Think it'll work?"

She shrugged again.

"I don't see why not. We've certainly worked in less favorable conditions over the last few years," she conceded, "But it isn't the work environment so much that has me worried, Oliver. What are we going to do with our new shadow?"

His mother had surprised them both that morning by bringing John Diggle into their lives. Mr. Diggle was former military, highly trained and well qualified. He was their new bodyguard. At least he was Oliver's new body guard. It seemed that Moira wasn't as concerned with the safety of her son's almost-fiancée. And while they had evaded Mr. Diggle that morning on the way into town, Felicity was certain that he would make sure that it wouldn't be so easy the next time.

Oliver sighed and dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head before they separated. He went to the large wooden trunk he'd brought home from Lian Yu. She hovered nearby as he lifted it onto a table and flipped back the lid.

"We'll figure something out. It isn't like we don't have experience avoiding people."

Felicity laughed and crossed the room to slide onto the table beside his trunk. She reached in and retrieved the worn green hood, rubbing the material between her fingers. Her mirth faded as the seriousness of what they had planned settled over her.

Oliver removed his bow from the trunk and set it on the table. His quiver followed and he slung it over his head, settling it across his back. She took a few tennis balls from the backpack she'd carried with her. She juggled them for a minute, making Oliver smile.

"For someone with such terrible eyesight you have incredible hand-eye coordination."

She stuck her tongue out at him before tossing one of the balls in a random direction. It bounced once before the thwick of an arrow echoed around them and the tennis ball ended up anchored into the wall.

Felicity grinned and threw the next three balls in rapid succession, not the least bit surprised that he hit each of them with impeccable precision. She hopped off of the table and took the bow as he handed it to her. She stood with her back to him, lifting the bow in front of her, and Oliver's hands slid along her arms to steady her.

"Am I ever going to be able to do this on my own?" she grumbled, feeling her arm shake under the weight of the bow and the tension in the string.

"You will. We just have to keep working on it. And this bow isn't exactly designed for someone your size. We'll have to order one that's built for you," he said softly, his fingers ghosting over her cheek as they pulled the bowstring back together.

When it released, setting loose the arrow, Felicity felt her breath catch. She watched as it cut through the air before sinking into the wall with a sharp snick. She lowered her arm, the bow hanging limply at her side, and Oliver's arm slid around her waist.

"You're getting better," he mused.

She shrugged, "Only because you helped."

His lips grazed her ear.

"You're good, Felicity. You've got skills that I can't compete with, you know that. It's just a different set of skills."

"Right. Because hacking into encrypted databases is a useful skill."

"It is. And its one that we're going to need. Stop limiting yourself. I've seen you with a knife in your hand. You know how to handle yourself with the right weapon. Which is why I want you with me when I confront Hunt today."

She turned in his embrace, letting him take the bow from her.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded, "I trust you with my life, Felicity."

"That's good to know, Mr. Queen, considering that I plan on spending the rest of mine with you."

Oliver grinned, his eyes lighting up, and she could've sworn that his cheeks pinkened.

"I heard what you said to your mom at the hospital," she confessed, "About marrying me. I'll say yes, you know. Whenever you're ready to ask, I'll say yes."

* * *

She pulled the hood of her jacket forward, shielding her face more, and stayed in the shadows. She had donned dark jeans and tall black boots in the hopes that her outfit would act as camouflage in the dark underground parking structure. The weight of her knives where they were concealed on her body provided a minute amount of assurance that this was going to work, that everything would be okay, but she wasn't one hundred percent convinced. She wouldn't be until it was all over.

"You remind Grell that I put him on the bench and I can take him off of it."

Hunt's voice carried through the parking garage a moment before he appeared in her line of sight. He was flanked by two security guards.

"And this attorney, Laurel Lance, you told me she wasn't going to be a problem anymore. Why is she still here?"

Felicity stiffened at the mention of Laurel's name and cast a quick glance in Oliver's direction. He had already nocked one arrow and chose that moment to let it loose. The light fixture over Hunt's car exploded, sending sparks raining down on the men below. Shouts erupted around her as Hunt's men shoved him into the car moments before they opened fire.

Felicity held her position – and her breath – as she waited for the noise to cease.

"Hey," Oliver called, his voice strong and concealed by the modulator she'd sewn into his suit, "You missed."

She relaxed slightly, reassured by the steadiness of his voice that he was unharmed, and watched as another arrow cut through the air and pierced the chest of one of the guards. A third arrow broke out a window in Hunt's car.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Hunt called.

"You're going to transfer $40 million into Starling National account 1141 by 10 PM tonight."

"Or what?"

"Or I'm going to take it and you're not going to like how."

Hunt clambered from his car.

"If I see you again, you're dead!"

Felicity saw it, the quick movement, the bulge of a weapon concealed and she reacted. The dagger strapped to her thigh was suddenly in her hand and then it was gone, flying end over end before lodging in Hunt's shoulder. He cried out, dropping his gun, and fell to his knees.

Another arrow was aimed at the hood of Hunt's car and when it met it's mark, it exploded.

Oliver's voice cut through the noise.

"Let's go!"

* * *

They entered the Queen mansion with their arms around one another.

The house was quiet, lacking the buzz of activity that Felicity was beginning to become accustomed to, and for that she was grateful. All she wanted at that moment was to be locked away in the privacy of their bedroom where she could take a moment to assure herself that they were both okay.

Oliver closed the door behind them as Felicity crossed to the bed, sitting heavily on the edge of the mattress. She pulled off her boots, not bothering to pick them up once they'd fallen to the floor.

They had returned to the factory only for a few moments, long enough to store their supplies and leave their hoods behind. Felicity had taken the time to scrub the grease paint from around Oliver's eyes, as well, before they'd made their way back home.

"Are you okay?"

She looked up to find him on the other side of the room, hovering near the door, and she did her best not to read into the distance that he'd left between them.

She nodded.

"I'm fine. How are you?"

Oliver shrugged, "Fine."

"Really? Then why are you so far away? What's wrong, Oliver?"

He sighed, dragging a hand roughly through his hair and leaving it disheveled. She chose to remain where she was and give him the time he obviously needed to gather his thoughts. She knew that there was much more to come, far worse scenarios awaited them, but as much as she should have been concerned, she wasn't. It was clear to her, though, that Oliver didn't feel the same way.

"This is dangerous."

"I know."

"You could get hurt."

"So could you."

"Are you sure that you want to continue doing this?"

Felicity pulled her legs up onto the bed, hugging her knees to her chest, and watched him carefully as she contemplated what he was asking her.

There had been so many discussions, arguments and negotiations, hours and hours of talking things out, before they had even been rescued from the island. They had designed a plan together, one that required both of them, and she had no intention of backing out. Oliver had trained her. He had given her the confidence that she needed to know that she would be able to protect herself, that she would be able to save herself in the event that he couldn't.

"What happened to trusting me? To encouraging me to trust myself?" she asked quietly.

"I do trust you, Felicity. You know that I do."

"But you don't want me in the field?"

The same hand he'd run through his hair scrubbed over his face and the look he gave her was pleading.

"All it would've taken was one stray bullet and I could've lost you."

She sighed, "And you don't think that I felt the same way while we were out there? They were aiming for _you_ , Oliver, not me. Hunt's men didn't even know that I was here."

He crossed the room and sat beside her on the bed. He clasped both of her hands in his.

"How am I supposed to make sure that you're safe?" he questioned, desperation seeping into his tone.

She shrugged, "By trusting me to use the things that you and Sara taught me to protect myself. I don't want you losing focus out there, Oliver. I don't want you getting hurt in the field because of me, because you're too busy worrying about my safety to worry about your own. I will always have your back and I know that you'll have mine but we have to put our own safety first when we're out there. I won't let you get killed because of me."

He pulled her onto his lap and set his chin on her shoulder. Her fingers found their way into his hair.

"We can do this, right?" he asked.

"You know that we can."

Felicity let her lips linger at his forehead as they sat and she pressed a kiss to the scar over his left eye.

"I think we have a party to get ready for."

His hold on her changed, drawing her even further into the warmth of his body, and she felt no reason to rush him. She could see the stress and tension that made his shoulders rigid, his muscles coil, and she wished there was something that she could do to ease his worry. But she understood that she couldn't wish his discomfort away anymore than she could wish her own away. Oliver would have to come to terms with her role in their plan in his own time and she knew that he would. Eventually.

* * *

The pounding pulse of the music shook the floor beneath her feet as Felicity stood in the center of the raging party that had been organized by Oliver's best friend.

She was standing on her own while Oliver went to the bar and Felicity couldn't help but scan the crowd of unfamiliar faces. The women – who easily made up two-thirds of the party goers – were in various states of undress and the sight reminded Felicity too much of her former life. She had grown up in Las Vegas with her mother who had been a cocktail waitress on the strip. She'd seen plenty of young women like the ones who'd come to Oliver's welcome home party back then and she had always aspired to never be like them.

Glancing down at the dress she wore, she sighed.

In the handful of days since they'd returned to this version of reality, she hadn't had time to shop for much more than the essentials. Oliver had made sure that she'd had a few things beyond what she'd brought home with her but Tommy's party had called for something that made more of a statement. So she'd gone to the one person who she had known would have the right selection of garments for the occasion.

At seventeen, Thea Queen seemed to have a pretty adult view of fashion. The tiny pink dress that Felicity had borrowed, one shouldered and skin tight, had been proof of that. The hemline barely covered the roundness of her backside while what little cleavage she had was encased by the not-so-forgiving material. It wouldn't have been something that she would've chosen on her own but Thea had lit up excitedly when Felicity had stepped out of the bathroom in it.

An appreciative whistle met her ears and Felicity turned to find Tommy approaching, a wide grin plastered on his face. She briefly wondered how much he'd had to drink so early in the evening.

"Wow, Lis, you look…"

He trailed off as his eyes scanned the length of her body. The action, she knew, was meant to be teasing but it still made her flush from head to toe.

"Thank you. I think."

He smirked, "You are so very welcome. Oliver definitely has the most beautiful woman on his arm tonight."

Said arm was suddenly encircling her shoulders, pulling her closer, as a glass of wine was placed into her hand.

"I certainly do," Oliver confirmed.

"Tommy, this part is… it's crazy! Do you even know these people?" Felicity asked, directing the line of conversation away from her as quickly as possible.

He shrugged, leaning closer so he didn't have to shout over the noise.

"Not really."

She shook her head, forcing a fake smile to her face, and looked around.

"And all of them are really here to see Oliver?"

This time Tommy laughed, eyes glinting mischievously as he met Oliver's gaze over her shoulder.

"Your guy here was pretty damn popular back in the day," he told her, "And that was _before_ he was lost at sea. People wanted to come out and celebrate the prodigal son's return!"

Someone called his name and Felicity waited until Tommy had stepped away before turning in Oliver's embrace. She smiled up at him, the heels she wore bringing her more at level with his nose than where she normally stood at his shoulder. She pressed up onto her toes to kiss him.

"You were popular?" she teased, "I never would've guessed."

He grinned into her kiss, taking over and nipping at her lips before cupping her jaw with his free hand. She could taste the whiskey on his breath as his tongue tangled with hers, could feel the heat of him where they were pressed together, and she wondered briefly if she'd ever get tired of the way that she felt when he was with her.

He pulled away and she pressed her forehead to his shoulder. It wasn't until she lifted her eyes a moment later that she noticed that they had an audience.

"Laurel."

Oliver stiffened and turned, finding Sara's sister standing not too far from them, a look of disappointment on her face.

"Come on."

When Oliver headed in Laurel's direction, tugging her along behind him, Felicity stumbled.

"No! Oliver, no, this is a terrible idea."

She had no desire to meet Laurel Lance at the party, dressed like one of those woman she never wanted to be, and certainly not after being caught making out with Oliver mid-party.

"Laurel. I didn't think you'd be here."

She shrugged, casting a weary glance in Felicity's direction, "Tommy invited me."

Oliver nodded absently, his fingers gripping hers tightly, and Felicity waited for one of them to continue.

"Are you going to introduce us?" Laurel asked.

He glanced at her suddenly as if he'd almost forgotten that she was there and Felicity tried to give him an encouraging smile. She wasn't quite sure if she'd succeeded.

"Laurel, this is Felicity. She was with me… on the island. Felicity, this is Laurel Lance."

She took a startled step back, her eyes wide as she looked between them.

"You're the woman that they found him with. The news reports said –" Laurel turned an accusing glare in Oliver's direction, "How did you convince her to sneak away with you, too? Were you sleeping with both of them? I can't imagine that my sister was okay with that."

Felicity shook her head.

"I know that it's hard to believe but, no. No, I – I ended up on that island, too. And by complete coincidence."

Felicity wanted to say more, to put Laurel's mind at ease if she could because – even though the other woman had said some unkind things to Oliver – she didn't deserve to be left in the dark. But there was nothing more that she could say that wouldn't raise suspicion. She and Oliver had agreed on what they would tell people and it was a story that she would have to adhere to.

Laurel shook her head in disbelief.

"I'm not sure what I ever saw in you," she told him, a mixture of sadness and disappointment in her voice, "I came here tonight to apologize for what I said to you the other day. I thought I'd been too harsh. I guess I was right the first time. It should've been you. You should've died out there, Oliver, not Sara. Not my sister."

With that parting shot, Laurel walked away from them, leaving Felicity with an ache in her chest for the man beside her. The man that Oliver had become. He was so much more than any of them knew and she wasn't sure how much longer she would be able to stand by and let them crush him.

She squeezed his hand, "Oliver, I –"

"No," he shook his head, "Please, Felicity. I'm fine."

She worried her lip between her teeth, examining his face for any indication that Laurel's words had been felt, but the mask was back. She hated that he wore it in front of her. Hated that he thought that she couldn't see through it.

His phone must've vibrated at that moment because he withdrew it from his pocket and showed her the screen. Adam Hunt had failed to meet their demand.

"Looks like it's time to make our next move."


	6. Chapter Five

**A/N:** Again, thanks to my lovely beta, westernbeauty, you are awesome and I really appreciate your support!

 **October 14** **th** **, 2012**

She was sitting on the edge of the bed when Oliver emerged from the walk-in closet, knotting his tie. His hands stilled when he saw her, realizing that she hadn't made a move to get dressed.

"You're not coming."

He hadn't posed it as a question but she shook her head anyway, unable to meet his eyes. Unable to stomach the disappointment she knew that he'd try to conceal.

"I'm sorry."

Her voice was weak and barely audible even to her own ears but she knew that he'd heard her. He crossed the room and knelt in front of her, his large, warm hands cupping her face, urging her to look at him.

"Tell me what you're thinking."

Felicity swallowed hard.

"There wasn't anyone left to miss me, Oliver. When I was taken, there was no one to report me missing. There was no search. My mother's murder went unsolved. No one even knew that I had been in town when she was killed. My friends at school, they all thought that I'd moved to Gotham, that I'd accepted a job offer and that was it."

Tears welled in her eyes, blurring his face where he remained in front of her. The ache in her chest had formed the evening before and even though she had promised herself that she wouldn't miss Oliver's court appearance that morning, she couldn't do it. She couldn't sit there with his family while the death-in-abstentia was overturned. She couldn't watch Oliver's legal resurrection knowing that no one had even looked for her.

"I know that this is important to you," she muttered, warm tears sliding down her cheeks, "But Oliver, I –"

"Shh," he cooed, pulling her to the floor and into the circle of his arms, "I understand, Felicity. It's okay. I understand."

He rocked her while she cried, holding her even closer when she pressed her face into his shoulder and sobbed in earnest.

The only person in her life who had truly mattered, who would've searched for her, was dead. And it was because of her that her mother had been murdered. It was Felicity that they wanted and when her mother had tried to protect her, she'd lost her life and Felicity had been taken anyway. In the years that had followed, drowning in guilt following her mother's murder, she had wished for her own death so many times.

"Felicity, _dorogaya,_ look at me."

She took a steadying breath before lifting her eyes to his. He kissed her tear-stained cheeks.

"This is a formality for my family. I don't want you to torture yourself by sitting in that courtroom with me today. I'm not going to be upset if you don't go," he assured her, "But I will be upset if I know that you're here by yourself with this absurd thought in your head that you're alone. You will never be alone again. Do you understand?"

Felicity stared at him for a long moment, her heart thrumming, and nodded.

"Yes."

He pressed another kiss to her cheek, his stubble scratchy against her sensitive skin, and she breathed in the scent of him.

" _Ya lyublyu tebya vsem sertsem, Oliver."_

"I love you, too, sweetheart."

A knock on the door caused Felicity to jerk back in his arms and it opened before either of them could grant entry to their visitor. Thea strolled in.

"Mom and Walter are waiting," she announced, "You're going to be late. Not that that's a surprise to anyone."

Her steps faltered at the sight of them and Felicity could only imagine how they must look. She remained in Oliver's lap, dressed only in the t-shirt and panties that she'd slept in, her face blotchy from crying, and Oliver wore a gray suit and soft blue tie.

"Speedy, most people wait for a response before barging into a bedroom that doesn't belong to them."

The youngest Queen shrugged, her eyes traveling back and forth between them.

"You're not going?" she asked Felicity.

She shook her head, throwing a pleading glance at Oliver.

"Felicity isn't feeling well, she's going to stay home."

Why she was suddenly unable to form a coherent sentence, Felicity wasn't sure, but she was thankful that Oliver had given her the out that she needed.

He stood with her still in his arms, depositing her gently on the unmade bed. He bent to brush a kiss across her forehead.

"Call if you need anything. I shouldn't be too long."

The words were just a whisper against her skin and then he was gone, turning to address his sister and lead her from the room. But Thea resisted when Oliver took her arm.

"I'm not going either. I've been in a courtroom with you a few too many times, thank you very much. I'm going to sit this one out. Maybe I can stay and keep Felicity company."

Panic swooped low in her belly at Thea's suggestion and she knew that she was trapped. She had no viable excuse to sway Oliver's sister. When he glanced back at her, she knew that she wasn't getting out of bonding time with Thea.

"Are you hungry?" Thea asked, taking Felicity's silence as acceptance, "Because I can ask Raisa to make us something and bring us coffee. We can watch a movie or something."

Felicity inhaled slowly to abate the desperate need to run that filled her and gave Thea the most genuine smile she could manage.

"That sounds great. And just so you know, I will never turn down coffee."

* * *

They made it through almost half of the movie, some romantic comedy that Felicity wasn't remotely interested in, before Thea turned to her with dark eyes that were full of questions.

"We don't get to spend much time together. I mean, you're always with Ollie. It's like he's afraid to let you out of his sight or something."

Felicity shrugged, "We haven't been apart much. For a long time… for a long time it's been just Oliver and I. It's hard to break away from that."

She nodded, glancing back at the TV before asking:

"Where are you from? What were you like before that island? Who are you, Felicity?"

Felicity cringed inwardly, hoping that she could answer Thea's questions without jeopardizing everything that she and Oliver were trying to protect.

"I grew up in Las Vegas," she explained, "just my mom and me. I was a bit of a nerd growing up, I guess. I mean, I love computers and code and anything tech related. I was really interested in tearing things apart and putting them back together. I liked to learn. Which is probably why I graduated high school when I was fourteen and went to MIT on a full ride. I had just finished my master's in cyber security when –"

She stopped herself, clamping down painfully on her lip, and closed her eyes as the memory barreled into her for the second time that morning.

"Is that when your mom died?" Thea questioned carefully.

Felicity nodded, swallowing around the lump in her throat.

For a long moment they sat in silence and Felicity was grateful that Thea had enough tact not to press her for more information. She knew that, if asked to recount any aspect of that night, she would break down again. And she still hadn't figured out why she was so emotional. She hadn't cried so much in years, not even on the island. Because Lian Yu hadn't been the place to let your emotions get the better of you. Being an emotional basket case on Lian Yu was dangerous. It was deadly.

"So what? You're like a genius or something?"

Felicity shrugged, "Or something."

"For real?"

"Last time I checked, my IQ was still over 160 which is technically genius level."

Thea laughed in amazement.

"And you're with my brother, why?"

Felicity laughed along with Oliver's sister to hide the twinge of annoyance that Thea's words brought out of her. The way that his family and his friends discounted him bothered her. He wasn't as smart as her – less than two percent of the population could claim to be – but Oliver was by no means dumb. It was true that she hadn't known him before the island, she hadn't known the immature and inconsiderate man that he had once been, but for his family to not see how much he'd truly changed was something Felicity couldn't understand.

"And you really love him, don't you?"

She turned to Thea with what she was certain was a startled expression. The question had caught her off guard.

"Yes."

Thea tipped her head, suddenly more interested in the cup of cocoa clutched in her hands than the movie they were supposed to be watching.

"I always thought that Ollie would marry Laurel. Even though he wasn't really good to her and even though I knew back then that he wouldn't be happy, I just figured they'd get married. They would've been just like our parents. Faking it every step of the way. I know that Laurel wanted to marry him. Why is completely beyond me, but I know she thought she loved him," Thea shrugged, "And maybe she did in a way. She was devastated when we found out… and then she was crushed because, well, because of Sara."

Felicity's stomach churned. She couldn't even begin to imagine the range of emotions that Laurel had felt in the months after they'd learned of the Gambit's fate. She had lost Oliver, a man she thought she loved, and she'd lost her only sister. And to discover that she'd lost them both because they'd been having an affair, it would've been easy for her to hate them both. They both would've deserved that hatred.

"They were cute together," Thea continued, "Ollie and Laurel. He was charming and – and funny. He took care of me when my mother was too busy with being a socialite and dad was too busy chasing the women in his office. Ollie and Laurel were a beautiful couple. But what I saw today, the way that he was with you… Felicity, I have never seen him like that. The way he looks at you, the way he talks to you. It's like he's a completely different person, like he's a stranger. He's barely said two words to me since he came home."

A wave of guilt made tears sting her eyes. She blinked them away.

"Thea, I'm sorry, I –"

"What? No, oh no, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that, I wasn't blaming you! I just – I guess I realized when I saw the two of you that I don't really know my own brother anymore," she said hurriedly, "He would never have treated Laurel the way that he treated you this morning. Or anyone else for that matter. Ollie looks at you like you hung the moon or something."

Felicity felt her face flush even as she smiled at Thea's suddenly wistful tone. She took the younger girl's hand and squeezed.

"I feel the same way about him. I see Oliver and I see this man who changed my life. Who saved my life, in some ways. So yes, I really love him. More than anything. And don't worry, Thea. Every girl deserves to have the kind of love that Oliver and I have. You'll find it someday," she assured her, "And as for Oliver, well, he's a good man. A wonderful man. And he does love you. But what your brother's been through… that experience really forced him to grow up, to become someone else. I know that you want your brother back and, I promise you, he's still in there. You'll just have to help him figure that out. You have to drag him out of that shell he's living in."

Thea shook her head.

"I don't know where he found you, Felicity, but I'm glad that he did."

She squeezed Felicity's hand once before picking up the remote and rewinding the movie back to the last scene that either of them had seen. Thea relaxed back into the sofa and after a moment, Felicity followed suit, allowing herself to relax for the first time that morning.

* * *

Felicity swung at the punching bag again, the steady rhythm of her fists against the bag barely masking her heavy breathing. Sweat dripped from her hairline, burning her eyes and dripping off the end of her nose but she didn't slow her pace. Her muscles ached, her shoulders and back protesting as she pushed herself to the brink, but still she didn't stop.

When their movie had ended and Thea had escaped to her bedroom, Felicity had made the mistake of turning on the local news. She had seen Oliver's face fill the screen, surrounded by a crush of reporters, with microphones shoved in his face while the vultures shouted questions at him. He'd look stressed, his shoulders tense and his eyes a little wild, and she had immediately regretted not going with him. Because she should've been there. She should've been there to offer him some form of support, something to help him get through. He shouldn't have gone alone.

But, she thought, he hadn't been alone. Moira and Walter and Tommy had been there. Because Oliver had a family. He had a best friend. Oliver had people.

"Fuck."

"I don't know that I've ever heard you utter that word outside of our bedroom."

She whirled around sharply, stumbling forward slightly as the still-swinging punching bag clipped her hip.

"Jesus, Oliver! I swear to god, one of these days I'm going to put a bell on you! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

He grinned at her empty threat. The suit jacket he'd been wearing that morning had been discarded somewhere, his tie loosened, and he sat with his legs crossed at the edge of the mat. She walked over to him and stood with her hands on her hips, head down so that she could look at him.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there today. I caught some of the footage on the news. It was a madhouse."

He shrugged, "It's okay, Felicity. I told you I understood and I do."

She looked around the room, taking in the fancy and barely touched equipment, before Oliver's hand closed around her wrist and he tugged her forward another step.

"Hey. Don't do that. No guilt. Not about this."

She scoffed, not stopping him as he removed her gloves.

"Says the man who is one giant ball of guilt."

He shook his head, still grinning, "I just said no guilt about this, about today. We've both got enough that we feel guilty for."

When he tossed both of her gloves to the other side of the room, she sank down to her knees and leaned into his shoulder.

"How was it?" she asked.

He sighed, "Surreal, actually."

"Did you – did they ask about your dad? About what happened to him?"

"Yes. And I lied. Just like I've lied to everyone else. About my dad, about Sara. It's all one big lie and I feel like I'm getting lost in it."

He rested his head on top of hers and Felicity slipped her arm around him.

"I won't let you get lost, Oliver."

His fingers grazed over her wrist, sliding along the long-healed scars that wound their way around her arms, reaching almost to her elbows. She shuddered a little at the touch, at the phantom pain that slithered through her, and shifted closer to him. There was something about this set of scars in particular that she hadn't been able to get over.

"You've never talked about these," he murmured.

She shrugged, "Rope burn. Ligature marks. My arms were bound. Always. I might've scratched one of the men so badly in the beginning that he lost his vision in his right eye. So they cut my nails down to the beds and bound my hands."

"With rope?" he pushed.

"Mostly. Sometimes it was chain of some kind. Other times it was steel cable. That was the worst. It wasn't coated with anything so when I struggled… When Sara found me, I had the cable embedded so deep in my wrist that she had to use her knife to pull it out. I guess I'm lucky I didn't lose my hand. Not that it would've mattered much. That would've been the worst of my problems, right?"

Oliver sighed, his lips soothing as he kissed the top of her head.

"I've discovered why I can't seem to stop crying today."

"And why's that?"

She shrugged, "Today is the anniversary. My subconscious knew, apparently, but I didn't. Not until I looked at my phone. It was five years ago today that I was taken."

Oliver drew her closer, pulling her into his lap again, and she let the beat of his heart beneath her ear lull her.

"It seems like another lifetime, doesn't it? I feel like – like I've been a dozen different people since the Gambit sank."

"Weirdly, it does. Five years isn't that long but when you spend those years wishing for your life to just end… it's weird but it seems like ages ago. Like I was a completely different person then."

The room around them fell silent and once again, the memory of the night she was taken ran rampant through her mind. She would never forget the terror that she'd felt when they'd burst into her mother's apartment or the pure agony that had threatened to paralyze her as she'd watched her mother die, unable to do anything to help her.

"I'm glad that he's dead," she confessed, anger bubbling up inside of her suddenly even as Oliver lifted her scarred wrist to his lips.

"Your father?"

"Yes."

"Me, too."


	7. Chapter Six

**A/N:** A huge, huge thanks to my beta westernbeauty. I don't think this chapter would've been posted if not for your suggestions! I was definitely feeling the self-doubt with this one. Also, giant apology for the delay. I've moved something like 150 miles away and started a new job in the last three weeks and I'm still settling in… apparently my muse got left behind. Anyway, thanks for sticking with me!

 **October 15** **th** **, 2012**

"Martin Somers."

The next name on the list was her suggestion. Another local man in the news, another criminal that deserved to have the fear of God put into him by the vigilante.

Oliver stopped what he was doing – taking repeated swings at the training dummy with a heavy staff – and turned to her, one eyebrow cocked.

"Somers? Really?" he questioned.

Felicity nodded, "He's a murderer, Oliver. Smuggling drugs and lord knows what else through his business at the docks. He's a major baddie."

Oliver grinned at her terminology and shook his head, setting the staff aside and crossing the room to stand beside her. She showed him the information she'd obtained on Somers and his not-so-legal dealings. He stood behind her left shoulder, his hand coming to rest there, and she tried not to be affected by the way his thumb skimmed back and forth across her skin just beneath the collar of her shirt.

"He's on the list for a reason."

"And the trial he's involved in now?" she told him, clicking on yet another news article on Somers, "It's Laurel's case."

She heard him sigh and didn't need to look at him to know that his shoulders had fallen at the new piece of information she'd presented him.

"What is it with her and these seriously bad guys? First Hunt, now Somers. I mean, I know she's just doing her job but… couldn't she have picked a safer one?" Felicity mused.

"Laurel has always been headstrong. It's what happens when you're raised by a cop. She was always determined to get justice for the underprivileged, to right the wrongs of a system that was failing them," he explained, "But I imagine that her father isn't happy about her career choice."

The hand on her shoulder slid around to the back of her neck, his fingers digging in as he kneaded the tense muscles there.

"You should get in some training today. Keep your strength up."

Felicity laughed, shaking her head.

"Oliver, you act like all I ever do is sit in front of these computers. I was just out on the streets with you last night, remember? And before that, I was in the gym. I'm fine. You just want me to take my shirt off."

It was his turn to laugh as he leaned over her shoulder and pecked at her cheek.

"Always."

She turned her head and caught his lips in a playful kiss that threatened to escalate before she pulled away.

"You could just ask, you know. I've never said no."

He laughed again, the sound sending goosebumps skittering across her skin, and tugged gently on her ponytail as he stepped away. A few moments later, the sounds of the wood on wood echoed through the room again.

It was a relief, seeing Oliver smile, hearing him laugh. Their time together before - before they'd come home, before they'd been rescued - had been one terrifying, life-threatening incident after the next. They'd forged a friendship based solely on trust. Trust that they would protect one another, that they wouldn't turn their backs on each other. They'd been safe as long as they'd been together and she had been assured every day since they'd come home that nothing had changed. They would always be safer together. They were a team.

Felicity realized that she couldn't pinpoint the exact moment that their friendship had turned into something more. Oliver had always been gentle with her, careful and unsure, something she blamed on the way that he'd found her on the island and the way that she'd responded to his presence. She'd been on the edge of death, her body battered and broken, her mind delusional. She'd been in the most vulnerable place in her life when he and Sara had removed her from the cage and she'd responded with an animalistic urge to survive. She'd been terrified but determined because death had not been an option. She hadn't been ready to die then and when Oliver had taken her into his arms to take her away from that god-awful place, to save her, she'd fought against him tooth and nail. That was until Sara had run a soothing hand over her hair, whispered soft assurances in her ear, and made her feel like she could trust Oliver Queen.

She blinked tears from her eyes at the memory, scrubbing them away quickly from beneath her glasses, and focused on the screens in front of her, willing herself to be strong.

Sara was dead. She was dead and – not for the first time – Felicity couldn't help but think that it was her fault. If they hadn't come back for her, if she and Oliver hadn't grown so close, Sara would still be alive. But if Sara had survived, Felicity wouldn't have. One of them wouldn't have made it off of the island. There had only been room for two of them and there'd never been a doubt in her mind that Oliver would survive. It had come down to her and Sara.

"Felicity?"

She whirled around, looking up at him with wide eyes behind her glasses, and found him watching her expectantly. He must've been calling her and she hadn't heard.

"I'm sorry, what?" she mumbled.

He took a step closer but stopped, eyes reading her expression with practiced ease.

"What is it?"

She shook her head, "Nothing. I was just – just thinking. Lost in thought, you know? I'm fine."

She was certain that he didn't believe her, that he could read the lie for what it was, but he let it go.

"We should pay Somers a visit at the docks tonight," he suggested, "Make him see the error of his ways."

She forced a smile, "Put the fear of god in him?"

He shrugged, "Wouldn't hurt."

She nodded, swinging back to her monitors and setting up the next search. They had a couple of hours before sundown and she had work to do.

* * *

Somers was suspended by his ankles, anchored to the crane arm above them, his head hanging close to six feet off of the ground. Felicity leveled her gun at him with Oliver was at her side, bow raised and ready, but silent. Somers was her target, her choice, so he stood down and she stepped into the lead.

"Tomorrow you will admit your guilt," she ordered, her voice a gravelly cadence thanks to the voice modulator that Oliver often used, "You will tell the authorities that you killed Victor Nocenti. You will concede that Nocenti discovered the drugs that you were smuggling for the Triad and that you murdered him to shut him up."

Somers' face paled, a feat Felicity found astonishing given the amount of blood that had to be rushing to his head, and she fired her weapon with precision. The bullet grazed Somers' cheek.

"There won't be a second warning."

Oliver nocked an arrow and a second later, it cut through the air, splintering the rope that held their target aloft. The distraction of the fall gave them the opportunity to escape, weaving their way through the maze of shipping containers until they came to the place where they'd left the motorcycle parked.

Silence enveloped them. She wasn't sure what train of thought was keeping Oliver so quiet but she knew that he was processing. It wasn't unusual for him to take his time and internalize his feelings. He would open up to her when he was ready. And it wasn't lost on her, the tension that poured off of him every time she pulled up her hood. There was very little doubt in her mind that whatever Oliver was battling as he climbed onto the back of the motorcycle, it had something to do with the hood she wore and the weapons she carried.

She held onto him a little tighter as he cut a corner sharply, pressing her face into his leather-clad shoulder absorbing the feeling a calm that he provided. The bike rumbled between her thighs, sending a tingle of pleasure racing up her spine, and a short puff of air left her. She squeezed him hard, her fingers digging into his rib cage with more force than necessary. He revved the engine and cut between two cars and the burst of adrenaline from the ride combined with the fading adrenaline from their encounter with Somers had heat coiling low in her belly.

They reached the factory in record time and by the time they parked the bike in their make-shift base, Felicity was trembling. She clambered away from Oliver, tugging her helmet from her head and let it clatter to the floor. Oliver turned to her as he removed his own helmet.

"Felicity?"

Felicity shook her head, pulling down the zipper of her jacket and throwing it down to join her helmet on the floor. She continued moving further into the factory, nimble fingers removing the tank top she wore before slipping into the waistband of her trousers. She felt the heat of Oliver's gaze as she moved across the room, discarding her boots and her tight leather pants until she was left in just a utilitarian bra and black panties. He closed the distance between them, watching with lust filled eyes as she turned to face him, sliding gracefully onto the steel medical table. Coming to rest between her spread thighs, Oliver's calloused fingers slid along her bare skin, caressing her gently before he leaned into her and pressed his lips to a spot just below her jaw.

"Oliver," she sighed, tucking her fingers into his hair and tugging hard.

The rough stubble lining his jaw scraped against the flesh of her throat and when Oliver sucked at her pulse point, a rush of warmth flooded her. She pulled his head up, her mouth finding his easily, their lips slanted together in a passion filled kiss that threatened to consume them. Her fingers tightened in her hair and one of his hands slid around her back, unclasping her bra and she leaned away from him long enough to let it drop to the floor between them. She reached for him, seeking his warmth in the cool dampness of the basement. But Oliver didn't return to her immediately. Instead, his eyes roamed over her, hands sliding up her ribcage until the weight of her breasts could be cradled in his calloused hands. When he rolled her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, she mewled pitifully.

"Oliver," she gasped.

Her eyes fluttered closed when he did it again, twisting the sensitive peaks, tugging on them hard enough that the movement was accompanied but a faint twinge of pain. She squirmed on the table and wrapped her legs around his hips, drawing him back against her body until his hands fell away and she was flush against him. She caught his face between her hands and nipped at his full bottom lip.

"I love you," she confessed quietly, "This – us – I –"

Oliver pressed his forehead to hers, his lips moving against her skin.

"I know, baby. I know. I love you."

She tugged at the zipper of the green leather he wore, pulling it down until the lapels hung open, leaving his naked chest exposed. Her fingers skimmed along his flesh, navigating a path across his ribs and over jagged scars until she could press her palm flat over his heart. It pounded out a rapid rhythm in his chest that calmed her, that centered her. For a long moment, they remained motionless, the only noise in the room was that of their breaths as they fell in sync.

"Felicity…"

The broken sound of her name on his lips drew her back into the moment. She slid both hands over his shoulders, freeing him of his jacket, before her nimble fingers found the zipper of his pants. They worked in tandem to free one another until they were both naked and then he was there, hard and hot right between her spread thighs. He tugged her forward until she was balanced on the edge of the table and as he thrust into her, filling her in a way that left her breathless, she wrapped her legs around him and dug her heels into the backs of his thighs.

"Oh… oh god…" she groaned as he withdrew and thrust into her again, his hips moving with a bit more force, and Felicity shifted to meet him. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer until there wasn't a hairbreadth between them. Her chin fell to the dip in his collar bone and she pressed her nose to his throat, inhaling the scent of him. His hips moved slowly, churning against her, the movement stealing the air from her lungs. One of Oliver's hands slid from her hip to her ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, and she bit into the muscle of his shoulder.

"Fuck," he grunted, his rhythm faltering before he sped up and pounded against her.

He fit her so well. He had, she remembered, from the first time he'd made love to her. And there had always been something so incredibly important to her about how he was with her, how they were together. Because she needed him to be it. She needed him to be the only one. Because once she had found him, she couldn't imagine spending her life with anyone else.

"Ol – Oliver!"

Her pleasure was building, an intense pressure filling her abdomen and spiraling through her veins. She was so close. She was right there, on the edge of the precipice, and if he moved just the right way as she writhed against him…

"Oh god!"

Spots of light danced in front of her eyes as her orgasm slammed into her. Her heart slammed against her sternum and the lack of oxygen flowing to her brain made her dizzy. She fell heavily into his arms as he continued to move against her, chasing his own release. She stroked her fingers through his hair and used her heels to tug him closer.

"Oliver," she murmured, lips at his ear, "Come on, Oliver. Come for me, baby."

He groaned, hips suddenly snapping against her, the change in momentum sparking a new fire in her own body. She held onto him and pressed her cheek to his.

"Oliver."

He came with a muffled shout against her shoulder as he spilled into her. Her fingers continued their path through his hair. Neither of them moved except for the faint tremble that seemed to flow from one into the other.

"I don't ever want to be without you," she whispered.

He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"You never will be. Never."

* * *

Felicity yawned and stretched out in their bed, her head pillowed on Oliver's chest.

"I don't like it," she told him, " _The Hood_? Seriously? They couldn't come up with anything better? And did Somers not tell them that there were two of us? Why do you get all the credit?"

Oliver chuckled.

"I doubt he wanted to admit that he was taken down by a woman."

"But he couldn't have known for sure that I was a woman. I mean, I was wearing a mask, my hair was tucked into my hood. I mean I –"

"Felicity, there is no man on earth that would not recognize your body as female," Oliver explained, his voice slightly hoarse.

She lifted her head to grin at him.

"Yeah?"

He nodded, "Definitely. Hips, ass, and these…"

He palmed one of her breasts through the t-shirt she'd donned for bed. She sighed happily and pecked at his lips.

"Good to know. But seriously though, why do you get all the credit? I mean, I'm the one that chased him down and strung him up and threatened him! That's just plain rude."

Oliver laughed again and shook his head.

"Honestly, Felicity, it's probably better this way. There's no reason we should both have targets on our backs."

She huffed her annoyance, "I wouldn't be here if I couldn't handle having a police target on my back, Oliver, you know that."

He rolled them over, pinning her to the mattress, and brushed his lips over the apples of her cheeks. Her eyes closed and she wound her arms around his neck, fingers slipping into his hair. His stubbled jaw scraped her nose.

"I know. You're strong, resourceful, brilliant, brave. You can handle anything that gets thrown at you. I've seen it time and time again. I've never doubted you. But any way you look at it, we're safer if the police only believe that they're dealing with one vigilante."

She frowned.

"I guess I can see your point. Sort of. But Oliver…"

She trailed off and looked away.

Oliver chuckled, nuzzling the hollow of her throat, nipping at her collar bone.

"But you don't want them to ignore you."

She sighed, "I don't need the recognition, Oliver. It isn't that, it's just…"

When he lifted his head to meet her eyes, she groaned at the amusement she saw there.

"Hey, it's fine. I get it. But it _is_ safer this way. If only one of us is in their crosshairs."

She stroked her fingers across his shoulders, letting her digits dance over the scars that branded him. The idea of either of them being targeted, of the danger that they were putting themselves in, frightened her. But they'd talked it to death. They'd fret over the decision for weeks but there really hadn't been any doubt for either of them. The city needed them. People – Oliver's family and his friends – they needed someone to save them. To protect their city and restore it to the place that Oliver had known and loved. So danger or no, in the end, their mission wouldn't be abandoned.

"Felicity?"

"Hmm?"

"You okay?"

She sighed again and turned her face into his hair, lips pressing a hard kiss to his temple.

"Yeah. I'm good."


	8. Chapter Seven

**A/N:** I must thank my beta **westernbeauty**. You are awesome! I really appreciate your enthusiasm! Also, to everyone who has been reading and reviewing. Seriously, thank you so so much! I'm so glad that you're all enjoying this and that you're still sticking with me.

 **October 17** **th** **, 2012**

She woke with a start, the echo of a blood curdling scream fading into the darkness. She blinked the sleep from her eyes and scanned the darkness that surrounded her. Oliver lay still beside her but she felt his gaze on her. He was awake and she knew that he was waiting for her to reach for him, to let his strength and warmth chase away the remnants of the dream that had torn her from sleep. And she would have, as she had so many times before. But tonight it wasn't warmth that she needed.

Throwing back the covers, Felicity stumbled from the sanctuary of their bed and crossed the room to the large bay of windows that looked out over the grounds. She rested her forehead against the cool glass and closed her eyes.

"That night in Moscow," she breathed, "I thought… I've never seen anything so horrible, Oliver. And to know that that woman died because of me, I – I just-"

A shudder wracked her body and she wrapped her arms around her torso.

"Felicity."

"I knew what I was doing. I knew that it was a bomb. But they told me the warehouse would be empty. Anatoly promised me that no one would get hurt. I was only supposed to be taking out Chekov's supply. I didn't – I had no idea his wife would be there."

He was behind her then, his arms circling her waist and drawing her back into his chest. Felicity closed her eyes and allowed herself to draw from his strength. His chin settled on the top of her head.

"You did what you thought you had to do, Felicity. No one blames you. Certainly not me."

She scoffed, "I'm pretty sure Chekov would blame me if he had any idea I was responsible. I'm sure his wife's family would blame me."

"They blame Anatoly. They blame the Bratva. As they should. You were doing what you had to do to stay alive. The Bratva would've –"

"Cut out your heart and sent it to me in a box with a big red bow? Trust me, Oliver, I know that. I've had nightmares about that, too."

Oliver sighed, the movement of his chest jostling her, and she crossed her arms over his where they were wound around her.

Their time in Russia wasn't something that either of them liked to dwell on. They'd been forced into a life that they hadn't wanted, one that had nearly killed them both, and even three years later, after returning to Lian Yu and then being returned to Starling City, the nightmares of that time plagued her.

"They threatened my life and you did what was required of you to save me."

She stepped away and pressed her face to the glass again. The heat from the nightmare still lingered on her skin. When the bomb had gone off, she'd almost lost her own life to the flames.

"I killed Chekov's wife, Oliver. I murdered that woman."

When Oliver made no move to close the distance between them, she knew that he understood. She couldn't explain away what she had done. She couldn't forget it. There were so many things from the past few years that they weren't proud of. Things that neither of them could forget. But what happened to Alexei Chekov's wife was something that Felicity would never be able to put aside. It was something that she would never be able to forgive herself for.

"Felicity."

She shook her head.

"Go back to bed, Oliver. I'll be there in a minute."

For a long moment, neither of them moved. But when he shifted behind her and she heard the mattress shift beneath his weight, she pushed off the window and followed him back to their bed.

* * *

Felicity pulled the bedroom door shut behind her, doing so gently, and tugged Oliver's sweatshirt more snuggly around her. Her sock-clad feet carried her down the dark hallway and she descended the stairs, making her way to the kitchen. She waved her hand beneath the cabinet closest to the door, sighing in relief when the motion activated under cabinet lighting came to life.

Felicity vividly remembered the moment that she had grown to fear the dark. Like the memory the murder of Chekov's wife, it was another memory that circulated continuously in the back of her mind.

She shuddered, pushing the stormy thoughts away and pulled open the double doors of the Queen's massive refrigerator. While Oliver had fallen back to sleep easily after they'd returned to the soft cocoon of their bed, Felicity had found her mind restless, unsettled.

"I thought that I was the only one around here who enjoyed a good midnight snack."

Felicity whirled around, a pitiful shriek of surprising filling the room, and found Oliver's stepfather crossing the massive kitchen. She took a reflexive step back, coming up against the refrigerator door, and Walter paused as he took in her response.

"I'm sorry," she rushed out, forcing herself to relax and willing her heart rate to slow, "I just – I don't … I guess I startle easily."

The smile that Walter gave her was gentle and so full of true compassion that she found herself being eased by it. There was something about the CEO of Queen Consolidated that she believed in, something that made her want to trust him.

"Perfectly understandable, dear. I don't believe that anyone would question your caution after what you've been through."

He took a slow step forward, gauging her reaction, and Felicity found herself nodding before turning back to stare into the refrigerator. Walter came up beside her, close enough that the sleeve of his silk robe brushed against her cotton covered arm, and Felicity was glad that she wasn't so uncomfortable that she felt the need to run. A sliver of unease still rested in her belly but it wasn't anything like what she was used to feeling.

Walter withdrew large dish covered with plastic wrap.

"Ah, Raisa's famous pumpkin trifle. A favorite of Thea's, I believe. Would you like to try some?"

Felicity eyed the layered desert wearily.

"I'm not really one for sweets," she told him, "Unless we're talking ice cream. I love ice cream."

Walter's amusement was evident in his expression. He returned the trifle to its place in the fridge before sliding open the freezer drawer. There were several pints of ice cream to choose from. Felicity grinned at him.

"Mint chip?" she asked hopefully.

He retrieved two pints, handing her one before finding spoons for each of them. They sat together at the high kitchen counter.

"So Thea has mentioned that you are exceptionally bright. Something about a genius IQ and a Master's degree from MIT?"

She felt heat rush to her face. With her eyes trained on her ice cream, she shrugged.

"Computer Information Technology and Cyber Security," she offered, "I'd just finished my degree when everything … everything changed."

Walter pressed on, skimming over what she'd been unable to vocalize, and for that Felicity was grateful.

"What did you intend to do after university? What were your plans?" he asked.

She tipped her head, spoon stuck in her mouth, and shrugged again.

"I'd already accepted a job at Wayne Enterprises," she told him.

"Ah, yes, the enigmatic Bruce Wayne."

She snorted at Walter's wry expression and sarcastic tone.

"Lucius Fox, actually. That man is brilliant. He – he recruited me. Called me up three months before graduation and offered me a job in the Advanced Scientific Development department. God, it was my dream job. Working on cool, top secret weapons and gadgets. They probably figured I couldn't handle it when I never showed up."

Walter set a comforting hand on her shoulder and – for a moment – Felicity marveled at the fact that she didn't flinch.

"If Lucius Fox himself contacted you, Felicity, then there would've been no doubt as to your ability to handle the job," he assured her, "I'm sure they were very concerned when they couldn't reach you."

 _They would've been the only ones_ , Felicity thought. But she kept the comment to herself and pushed the carton of ice cream away. Her stomach was protesting after only a few bites.

"Well, I know that Queen Consolidated isn't quite on the same level as Wayne Enterprises but I'm more than certain that your abilities could be of great use to our Applied Sciences division."

She froze, her mouth dropping open in surprise, and she could only assume that she was doing her best fish impression with the way that she was gaping at him.

"I – I'm sorry but did you just offer me a job?"

Walter nodded, "I did."

"But you hardly know me. I could be lying. I – I could be an axe murderer."

"felicity, do you honestly believe that Moira would've allowed you to stay in our home if we hadn't looked into your background? I've spoken to a handful of your former professors myself. You come very highly recommended. There wasn't a single blemish on your record prior to your disappearance."

She shook her head in disbelief.

"I don't know what to say."

Walter stood, setting their spoons in the sink before placing the ice cream back in the freezer.

"Why don't you take a couple of days to decide? Speak to Oliver. I'm certain that he'll want to be a part of your decision making process. It was lovely speaking with you, Felicity. Good night."

She nodded numbly and watched Walter leave the kitchen. When he was gone, she let out the breath she'd been holding.

"Well, shit."

* * *

"He offered you a job?"

She huffed out a breath as she sat up, core pulled tight, before falling back onto the mat and forcing herself into another sit-up.

"Yep."

"And you're going to take it, right? You want to take it?"

She shrugged and sat up, crossing her arms on her knees, sucking in much needed air.

"I don't know. Yes, I'd like to accept it. I'd like to have a job. But – but I've been out of the norm for so long that I don't know if I can work a real job. Actually, I've never had a job. I was nineteen, Oliver. I'd just finished college and I'd never done anything outside of a lab. What do I know about working at a company like Queen Consolidated? And what will people think? They'll think that I got the job because I'm sleeping with the owners' son and I –"

"Felicity. Stop. Take a breath."

She did as Oliver instructed, keeping her eyes on his face.

It had been less than twelve hours since Walter had laid the offer in her lap. She'd gone through multiple stages as she considered what it would mean to take the job. She'd been excited at first. The concept of having access to the newest tech being used and designed by QC was something that she had only dreamed of. But fear had quickly replaced her excitement. A job meant change. Change in her routine. A change in the lineup of who she would be spending the majority of her time with. Which, she knew, was the primary reason for her indecision. There had been times over the almost five years she'd known Oliver that they'd been apart, when something or someone had separated them. But that time apart had never been long and it had never been permanent. It wasn't until she resigned herself to the fact that she couldn't remain by Oliver's side twenty-four-seven that the doubt had set in.

"Walter wouldn't offer you something like this if he didn't believe in you, Felicity. You have to believe in yourself. You know that you have the knowledge. You are the smartest person that I've ever met. You'll hold your own."

Felicity sighed and dropped back to the mat. She threw her arm over her face.

"I know how smart I am, Oliver. I've been reminded of it my entire life. But there's more to being a good employee than being smart. And I don't know if I can do that. I've never – I've never had to before."

He reached for her, fingers gripping her wrist and drawing her arm away from her face. She frowned up at him.

"So try, Felicity. Tell Walter you'd like to go at it part time. Maybe just on a consulting basis. I'm sure that he'd be willing to work with you."

She sat up so that they were hip to hip, facing one another.

"How are you the voice of reason right now?" she asked.

He shrugged, "You needed to see reason and, for once, I caught onto it before you did."

Felicity sighed and closed the distance between them, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. She lingered, their foreheads touching, and closed her eyes.

"What are you going to do with yourself when you're free of me for a few hours every day?"

His warm breath ghosted across her cheek when he chuckled.

"God, I don't know. I'll be a free man for the first time in years."

She shoved at his shoulder, both of them laughing, and he caught her face in his large hands.

"Felicity?"

He kissed her, a quick peck followed by another and then another.

"Hmm?"

"Marry me?"

She grinned against his mouth and shook her head.

"No?"

"Yes."

He pulled away.

"Wait? What?"

Felicity laughed and shook her head again.

"That was me shaking my head in disbelief, Oliver. Is that really how you're going to propose?"

He shrugged, the corner of his mouth ticking up in a grin.

"Not romantic enough for you?"

She shook her head.

Oliver sighed, pressing another quick kiss to her lips before jumping to his feet. She pouted after him and watched as he threw open the trunk that had come home with them from Lian Yu. He withdrew something she couldn't see, hiding it in his fist, and crossed the foundry to join her again on the mat.

Her heart jolted in her chest when he reached for her left hand. The small thin band was cool as it slipped over the knuckle of the ring finger.

"Oliver…"

He laced his fingers with her and Felicity got her first good look at her engagement ring. It was a plain metal band, delicate and highly polished, with an intricate design etched into its face. There was no stone, making it look more like a wedding band than an engagement ring, but it was so much more beautiful than anything he could've purchased. It was so much more because it was handmade. Because it was one of a kind and made by the love of her life.

"Felicity Smoak, I would very much like it if you would be my wife. Will you marry me?"

She grinned, heart mimicking a jack rabbit as it rocketed around in her chest, and nodded.

"Better?"

She leaned into him, pressing her mouth to his, nipping at his lip. She whispered her answer against his parted lips, her finger sliding into his hair.

"Yes."

Oliver smiled widely, his eyes bright as he searched her expression. When he accepted her answer, when he truly believed that he was getting what he very clearly wanted, he tackled her. She fell to the mat laughing and when his weight settled on top of her, she knew that whatever came next, it couldn't possibly dull the shine in his eyes.


	9. Chapter Eight

**A/N:** Oh gosh, I'm a terrible human being. I cannot believe it took so long for this chapter to get out of my head! And I know I started working on Mark of the Angel before I finished this (I should know by now that I'm no good at juggling multiple WIPs…) but hopefully I'll be able to work on both of these going forward.

Anyhow, a huge thanks to my wonderful beta westernbeauty for supporting me on both of these fics, you're awesome! And to everyone who has read/reviewed, thank you thank you! Oh, and be warned, flashbacks ahead! Things are going to get dark!

 **October 19** **th** **, 2012**

The scenery outside passed in a blur of cars and trees and buildings lining the edge of the city as they drew closer to town. Thea chattered excitedly where she sat on her right and Felicity tried to pay attention to what the younger woman was saying. It was something about a wedding, something about spring and peonies and lavender bridesmaid dresses. And if she was at all interested in planning some big to-do for the day she and Oliver officially became husband and wife, she would've paid Thea more attention.

"What do you think? Late May, on the lawn at the mansion? It would be so beautiful and I know Mom and I could put together an amazing party."

Oliver squeezed her hand, her newly acquired piece of jewelry digging into her fingers, and she returned the gesture.

It had been less than three hours since they had announced their engagement over breakfast. His family had taken the news well, better than she'd honestly expected, and Felicity hadn't been at all surprised that Thea had been the one to latch on to the announcement and run with it. But it didn't make Oliver's little sister's constant wedding talk any easier to swallow.

"Speedy, please, we aren't setting a date or making plans yet. Felicity just said yes last night. We've got plenty of time to make arrangements."

Thea snorted.

"You really think Mom is going to buy that?"

Felicity worried her lower lip between her teeth and kept her gaze locked on their driver. Well, the back of his head, anyway. She wondered briefly about Mr. Diggle and his lack of speech that morning. She had been more than a little surprised to see their former – or so she thought – bodyguard standing in the foyer as she and Oliver descended the stairs. It had been days since she'd seen him. He hadn't taken well to the way that they'd evaded him repeatedly in the first week he'd been tasked with protecting them and when he'd stopped appearing every morning, Felicity had assumed that Moira had deemed him inadequate and relieved him of his position. Which, Felicity mused, would've been kind of her. It wasn't Mr. Diggle's fault that they continued avoiding his attempts to guard them. They didn't need guarding, either of them, and Oliver was hell bent on proving that. To whom, she hadn't actually decided.

"Felicity?"

She was drawn from her inner dialogue by Thea's finger prodding her in the ribs. Her gaze swung around to Oliver, one corner of his mouth turned up in an amused smirk. With wide eyes, she turned back to his sister.

"Sorry. I'm sorry. You were saying something?"

Thea shook her head, "You are a _little_ odd. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Once or twice."

Oliver squeezed her fingers again, the metal band of her ring warmed as a result of the combined heat of their hands, and she leaned a little more heavily into his side.

"I _was_ saying that there's no way in hell my mother is going to let you get away with a small wedding. I mean, Ollie is the Queen heir. The first of us to get married. The prodigal son returned from the dead. It'll be a big to-do. A spectacular affair with hundreds of guests and expensive china and … Felicity? Felicity, breathe! Oh my god, I was – I was kidding! Sort of kidding! Ollie!"

Large hands cradled her face, turning her so that she was facing him where he crowded her, pressing his forehead to hers. Oliver's voice was quiet but commanding as he directed her to breathe. To close her eyes and push the panic aside.

She drew a ragged breath into her lungs and did as he asked.

It wasn't the wedding that Thea described that frightened her. It was the prospect of being the center of attention at such a wedding that had her trembling in terror. She wasn't that type of girl. Never had been and never would be if she had anything to say about it. In her short twenty four years she'd never fantasized about her wedding but she knew that saying 'I do' to a man like Oliver Queen was a big deal.

"I'm fine," she said after what seemed like eternity.

It didn't come out as convincing as she'd hoped given that her voice was hoarse and her lungs still burned but she'd managed to speak, at least, and that was something.

Oliver's thumbs skimmed her cheek bones.

"We can do whatever we want, Felicity. If you want to get married in front of two hundred people, that's fine, but if you want to go to the Justice of the Peace tomorrow, that's –"

"Ollie! You are not serious!"

He threw a glare at his sister, his eyes only leaving hers briefly, before they were back, bright blue shining at her happily.

"This is our wedding, honey, and that means you and I can do whatever we want. I'll make sure of it."

The car rolled to a stop as she nodded. She reached up and squeezed Oliver's fingers, drawing his hands from her face. Their joined hands fell to her lap.

"Sorry. I'm sorry. That was a mini freak out. Well, probably not so mini, just a freak out of normal proportions."

Oliver grinned, "One of us was bound to freak out."

"Of course it was me."

Her gaze traveled past him to a canopied entrance and the valet waiting to assist them out of the car. _Chateau La Dux_ was one of the most expensive restaurants in the city. They'd yet to step foot inside its doors and Felicity hadn't had any plans to do so.

"This is where we're having lunch?" she asked a little dazedly.

Oliver looked past her, nodding.

"My mother's idea. A celebratory lunch."

"Our engagement?"

He nodded again, brushing a swift kiss across her partially opened mouth.

"It'll be fine, Felicity, I promise."

She inhaled deeply, closed her eyes and counted backwards from ten until her hammering heart slowed. She had zero regrets where Oliver was concerned. Falling in love with him, helping him, marrying him. She had no regrets whatsoever. But she was beginning to realize that it wasn't just him she was marrying. It was his family, the legacy of the Queens, which she was becoming a part of. It was more intimidating than she cared to admit.

Oliver's grip on her hand never lessened as she reigned in her emotions. When she was certain that she wasn't going to fall apart again, she squeezed his fingers and opened her eyes, finding his blue eyes smiling down at her. She nodded and braced herself for the storm to come.

* * *

 **Lian Yu, 2009**

Felicity huddled further into the corner of her cell. The steel floor was frigid beneath her bare legs and the flimsy hospital gown that she wore did little to prevent the chill of the metal bars that caged her from seeping in. It was the only article of clothing she was allowed to wear, the only protection that she had against the leering eyes of Ivo's men. It did nothing to stop the twisting of her stomach as their revolting gazes traveled the length of her body.

She was alone in the dark for the first time in at least a day and she was cowering, pressed into the corner of the four by four room that she'd called home for an indeterminate amount of time. She had lost track so long ago. Days melded into weeks into months and then years. As the experiments became more… intensive, as Ivo's research became more advanced, her brain had become so addled by the pain an d the drugs that she could hardly remember her own name.

A noise sounded outside of her cell, outside of the darkness, and she flinched. She braced herself on instinct. She'd been left alone for so long and Felicity knew it wouldn't last. She knew that her reprieve would end and someone would come for her. They always came. Whether her body had had time to heal or not, they always came for her.

Another noise broke the silence, this one louder – closer – than the last, and she swallowed the bile that burned her throat.

The door to her cell creaked loudly as it swung open and the beam of a flashlight hit her square in the face. She sucked a sharp breath into her lungs and began to scream.

"No! No, no, no, no!" she cried, her own abused voice piercing the darkness, "Leave me alone! Don't touch me!"

A large hand landed on her naked calf as she struck out at the man who entered. Tears burned in her eyes as pain burst from multiple places on her body. Her ankles were still raw from the restraints they'd kept her in and she was certain she'd torn the sutures in her abdomen as she flailed against her attacker. His fingers closed around her leg as he tried to immobilize her, too close to the wound just above her right foot, and a sob broke free of her chest. He released her almost immediately.

"Shh! Hey, hey, stop! I'm not going to hurt you!"

His voice was gentle but urgent and she felt the air shift around her as he backed away. The space between them didn't ease her panic and another shot of burning pain tore through her as she kicked out at him again. The action caused fireworks of white light to erupt in front of her eyes. If she continued the way she was she would pass out from the pain but Felicity didn't care. She would've rather been unconscious when it happened again.

A second voice broke through the haze that surrounded her and with it, a sense of calm washed over her. She froze.

"Felicity! Felicity, its Sara!"

The woman's voice was just as gentle as the man's had been and it held a hint of familiarity. She knew Sara. Sara had been here, too. Wherever here was. But she'd gotten away. She'd gotten away because Ivo and his men hadn't wanted her. Sara had been able to escape.

"You – you came back."

A smaller hand touched her knee and Felicity jerked away, drawing her legs toward her chest. Sara's hand followed, closing around one of her own, and Felicity nearly wept with relief.

"I told you I would. We have to get you out of here, Felicity," Sara urged, "And we don't have much time."

Felicity nodded, ready to do whatever it took to get out of the hell they'd kept her in, and tried to stand. Her knees buckled before she was even able to lift herself off of the floor. A strong arm shot out to catch her, sliding around her waist. She tried to recoil, to shake off his touch, but he didn't allow it this time. Instead, his other arm slipped beneath her knees and she was suddenly being cradled against his chest. Her heart erupted in her chest, skittering along like that of a frightened rabbit.

She must've made a noise, something that alerted Sara to her distress, because the other woman ran a hand over Felicity's tangled hair.

"He won't hurt you, I promise. This is Oliver. He's my friend."

She blinked against the sudden light that shown across the man's face. Sara was aiming her flashlight right at them and for the first time, Felicity got a look at the first man to hold her with care since she'd arrived in this god forsaken place. His hair was too long and his face wasn't exactly clean but his blue eyes were soft and kind and she wondered briefly how he'd ended up here, too.

She was aware of the fact that the gown she wore was the only thing separating her naked flesh from him and even though Sara seemed certain that Oliver wouldn't hurt her, Felicity had no way to be sure. Fear made her stomach roil.

"I – I can walk. I want to walk."

Sara and Oliver seemed to have a silent conversation over the course of the next minute and then Sara shook her head.

"Sweetie, your ankles are bruised where they're not bleeding and you're feet are swollen pretty badly. I think you'll do more damage to them if you try to put your weight on them. Besides, we have to be quick. Let him carry you. Please."

Felicity stared at Sara, her eyes struggling to make out the shape of her face, but even in the dark she could see her eyes pleading with her to let them help. She wanted to trust Oliver simply for the fact that Sara did but she didn't know how. But, she decided, she didn't have to trust him entirely in that moment. She only had to trust him to get her out of there and it was a risk that Felicity was willing to take.

She nodded her consent and forced herself to relax as much as possible into Oliver's embrace.

* * *

"What the hell did they do to her, Sara? She's – she's covered in blood. This thing she's wearing is filthy and she weighs next to nothing. What the fuck is happening on that ship?"

Felicity came into consciousness slowly and shrouded in confusion. She was lying on her side with a scratchy wool blanket tucked around her. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she was warm. The ache that had settled permanently in her bones so many months ago had thawed after what couldn't have been more than a few hours. She blinked her eyes open to find a shaft of sunlight streaming down on her. She wasn't sure where exactly she was but it was clear that Sara had made good on her promise. She was no longer on the Amazo with Anthony Ivo and his men.

A strangled sob escaped her.

"Hey, shh, you're okay."

Sara appeared in her line of sight, sinking to her knees beside her and helping Felicity sit up. She pressed her weight into the other woman's side as her arm came around her.

"You're okay now, Felicity."

Sara's voice was soft and steady and Felicity tried not to choke on the lump in her throat. She'd lived in fear and darkness since the day that they took her and finally – finally – she was free.

Another figure came to crouch down beside her and she barely recognized the man Sara introduced to her as Oliver. He looked like he'd at least washed his face and as he smiled at her, she could see how young he was. And she could see the genuine concern for her in his eyes. She pressed herself further into Sara's side.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice shaky, "For – for helping me."

Oliver nodded, his hand moving slowly toward her damaged ankles and his eyes locked on hers, asking for permission. She didn't speak but she didn't move either and when Oliver's fingers grazed along the instep of her foot, she shuddered.

"I don't think anything is broken and the swelling looks like it's going down," Oliver's voice was gentle as his fingers prodded her bruised flesh gingerly, "You tore out a couple of stitches though. Sara – Sara took care of that."

Felicity felt warmth flood her face. She'd known her sutures had been pulled back in her cell when she'd fought against him. She'd felt the sting as they'd ripped her flesh but there'd been so much else happening around her that she hadn't considered that there'd be blood on her gown and that Oliver and Sara would see. The injuries that they couldn't see were far worse than the ones that they could and Felicity knew that revealing them would only lead to more questions. Oliver was already staring at her, studying her, and his intent gaze made her uneasy. But not – she realized – in the same way that Ivo's men had made her uneasy. There was something in Oliver's blue eyes that made her want to trust him.

She cleared her throat uncomfortably and drew the blanket tighter to her chest.

"Where are we?"

Her eyes traveled around the space that housed them. It was mostly enclosed with a few gaping holes here and there but it looked an awful lot like the cargo hold of a freight plane.

"No idea how long it's been here," Oliver confirmed, his words making her realize that she'd voiced her thoughts out loud.

"Oh."

"We're on the island. The Amazo was anchored just off-shore."

She had known the moment that she'd woken up that they were on dry land. There'd been no steady rocking beneath her to indicate that they were still on the water. And she could smell trees and earth and humidity in the air that meant rain was coming. She knew without stepping foot outside that she was no longer on the ship.

"Why – why didn't you take me to the hospital?"

Oliver exchanged a look with Sara. She looked over at her friend, a horrible feeling blooming in the pit of her stomach.

"There is no hospital on this island, Felicity. It's not that kind of island."

Felicity let out a humorless laugh before asking, "What does that mean, exactly? Are we talking Isla Nubla here? _Jurassic Park_ , style?"

A smirk softened Oliver's features and Sara just shook her head.

" _Jurassic Park_ would probably be safer than this place," Sara told her.

Felicity sighed, lifting a shaky hand to rub her eyes.

"So you pulled me out of hell and brought me to –"

"Lian Yu. It means purgatory."

The heavily accented voice cut through the air, making Felicity flinch. Sara responded immediately, bringing Felicity further into her side and shielding her body with her own. Oliver was on his feet suddenly, towering over them where they remained on the floor. His stance was tense, guarded, and she couldn't help feeling at least a little safer with him there.

"Dragged in another stray, huh, Kid?"

Oliver glanced down at her.

"She's a friend of Sara's. Ivo had her out there. He was going to kill her."

"So what? You thought it was a good idea to bring her here? Put an even bigger target on our backs?" the other man barked out, "Jesus, kid, where's your head?"

Oliver's fists clenched where they hung at his sides.

"They were torturing her. Who knows what Ivo would've done if –"

"Can you please stop talking about me like I'm not sitting right here?" Felicity snapped suddenly, annoyance flooding her.

She struggled to her feet, grateful when Sara stood beside her to support most of her weight, and reached a hand out to settle on Oliver's forearm. He took a step in her direction, allowing her to use him as a crutch as well. The act of standing alone caused a pain unlike anything Felicity had felt before to shoot through her lower extremities. She bit her lip to keep from crying out even as tears welled in her eyes. Sara clutched her hand tightly and Felicity dug her nails into Oliver's arm. It took her longer than it should've to steady herself enough to speak.

"I don't want to be a burden on anyone. That isn't why I'm here. I – I don't really know why I'm here, to be honest. All I know is that because of my father, Anthony Ivo thought that I had something that he needed. And because of that, he spent … years experimenting on me. Torturing me. So you can believe, Mr…"

Oliver filled in the blank for her.

"Slade. Slade Wilson."

"You can believe Mr. Wilson that if Ivo or his men do show up here, you won't have to worry about me. You won't have to protect me. I'll kill anyone who tries to take me back there."


	10. Chapter Nine

**A/N:** Again, thank you to everyone who is still reading. Sorry these chapters are so far apart. I promise you I haven't abandoned the fic, I'm just juggling more than I can manage at the moment... Thanks to my lovely beta westernbeauty. Your kind words and encouragement always make me feel better before a new chapter gets posted.

 **An Arrow Thru It**

 **Lian Yu 2009**

She sat with her feet dangling in the water as bright sunlight beat down her. It had been too long since Felicity had felt the warmth of the sun on her skin. It had been too long since she had breathed in anything other than sweat and blood and other things that she refused to let herself think about. She had spent more than two years in captivity. Two long, torturous years that she had spent in the dark. Those were years that she would never get back.

"Felicity?"

She jerked, her entire body responding physically to the sound of his voice, and she scrambled to cover her bare flesh with the clothes that Sara'd procured for her.

"Wai- wait! Oliver, I'm – just stay over there!"

Felicity wasn't even sure where he was in the crop of trees behind her but she hoped that he had the decency to keep his distance. Sara had helped her to the small inlet so that she could wash some of the grime from her body. The other woman had only stayed long enough to make sure that Felicity didn't need any help before she'd afforded her some privacy. But now Oliver was there and she was naked and getting dressed around her injuries was proving to be tedious.

She struggled into a pair of underwear, ignoring the way the incisions in her abdomen throbbed, and she had just managed to get one leg into the loose cargo pants she'd been given when she lost her balance. The boulder that she stood on was slick and as she lifted her right foot to step into the pants, she slipped, toppling over into the dirt rather than the stream.

Pain tore through her side where it collided with the hard ground and her startled cry rang out.

"Felicity!"

She heard his thunderous steps as he raced toward her. She wanted to tell him that she was alright but the ache that burned its way through her stopped her. She wasn't sure that she could even open her eyes let alone get off of the ground.

"Felicity?"

The note of panic in his voice caused an emotion that she wasn't familiar with to blossom in her chest. It had been a long time since anyone had cared about her wellbeing.

"I-I'm okay," she managed weakly, blinking up at the blinding sun, "I'm okay. I fell."

She heard him sigh with relief as his pace slowed.

"I – Oliver, I don't think I can get up."

Warmth rushed to her cheeks. She was laying there in nothing but a pair of panties, one leg in her pants, with her chest completely exposed. She was fortunate enough that a baggy t-shirt was all that she needed to cover her small breasts – it would've been too much to hope for a bra – but she hadn't gotten so far as to pull the shirt over her head.

Oliver was certainly going to get an eyeful when he found her.

Fear spiked inside of her suddenly, quickly overshadowing her embarrassment, and her heart was suddenly thundering in her chest. Sara trusted Oliver. He had helped her escape from Ivo. He'd been kind to her. But he was a man, a stranger, and she was almost naked and in too much pain to fight him off. She had been hurt so many times in ways that she refused to dwell on. She didn't want to go through that again, she couldn't.

Oliver's footsteps drew closer and she could tell that he'd slowed his pace considerably. She turned her head toward the sound of his breathing but she couldn't see him. Her heart skipped.

"Ol – Oliver?"

He cleared his throat.

"I'm here."

There was an emotion in his tone that surprised her. He was angry. Disgusted. And for the first time, Felicity remembered the black that marred her skin, the bruises that didn't want to fade. He'd told her that Sara had been the one to patch up the stitches she'd pulled when they'd come for her. He hadn't seen the damage that they'd done to her. He didn't know that she was broken.

Shame replaced the fear quicker than she'd thought possible and she blinked the tears from her eyes. They burned as they streaked down her face.

The soft cotton of the t-shirt was jarring as it touched her skin. Oliver crouched beside her, draping it over her chest like a blanket as he brushed his fingers gently across her cheek.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice cracking, "I'm sorry that they – that this happened to you."

Felicity swallowed back the sob that threatened to escape her.

"Can you… can you help me sit up, please?"

He slipped his arm beneath her shoulders and lifted her carefully. A fresh wave of pain rippled outward, its center somewhere near her bellybutton, and she gasped, leaning heavily against Oliver's shoulder in order to stay upright.

Oliver touched her gingerly, the hand not around her shoulders skimming over her bruised flesh.

"You're not bleeding," he concluded, "I don't think you tore your stitches this time."

Felicity nodded, biting her lip to keep from whimpering under the prodding of his fingers, and clutched the t-shirt tight to her naked chest.

"Let's get you dressed and back to the plane."

She didn't reply to his soft suggestion but she didn't protest. He moved around her carefully, slowly, as he kept a hold of one of her hands and used his free hand to pull the pants up her legs. He sat quietly as she leaned into him to do up the buttons on her own and when she tried to struggle into the shirt without revealing anymore of herself than she already had, Oliver pried the material from her fingers with his eyes locked on her face.

He gave her an encouraging smile.

"Hold onto me."

She grasped fistfuls of his shirt where it was stretched across his chest. Oliver lifted the shirt over her head and tugged it down until it was situated around her neck. She had to blink a few times to clear the fuzziness from the edges of her vision while Oliver held the shirt away from her body, giving her ample room to work her arms into the sleeves. He tugged the rest of the material down until she was completely covered.

His eyes never left her face.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Do you – do you want to try to walk?"

Felicity nodded and moved her grasp to his forearms. It took very little effort for him to bring her to her feet. Another stab of pain, like a kick to her ribs, caused her breath to catch.

Oliver sighed, "You've got a broken rib. I don't know if it's from the fall or…"

She shook her head.

"I didn't fall that hard."

He adjusted the hold that he had on her and suddenly she was in his arms, cradled against his chest yet again.

"Oliver, I –"

"Hey, just – just let me do this. You don't have shoes, your ankles are still raw and your ribs are killing you. Please, I don't want you to hurt yourself just to prove a point."

He didn't look away from her as he spoke. The intensity in his words and his expression caused goosebumps to break out along her arms where they were wound around his neck.

After a long moment, Felicity nodded her consent and allowed herself to relax in his arms.

* * *

 **Starling City, 2012**

"Deadshot, huh? What the hell kind of a name is that?"

Felicity scrunched up her nose at the information on her screen, including the moniker that Floyd Lawton had been saddled with. The name – while ridiculous in her opinion – was appropriate. The man was obviously good at what he did.

She flinched as the needle snagged her skin.

"Yeah, well, stupid nickname aside, you're lucky that Lawton wasn't actually aiming at you."

Oliver's words were clipped and his fingers moved methodically, stitching up the shallow gash that Lawton's bullet had let in her arm. She allowed her fingers to skim down the side of his ribcage, still covered by his jacket, and glanced up at him.

"I'm okay, Oliver."

He sighed, "He got too close."

She certainly didn't disagree with him. She fisted the material beneath her fingers, holding onto him as he finished suturing her wound. It was high up on her bicep but not high enough that she would be wearing anything sleeveless any time soon.

"Why are you so sure that this shooter actually _is_ Floyd Lawton? It isn't like we got a look at him."

Oliver shrugged, "It would be too much of a coincidence that an ARGUS file dedicated to Deadshot shows up on your tablet while we're out in the field. Amanda Waller – for reasons I don't want to even think about – is helping us. Somehow."

She wasn't certain what to say to that. Amanda was not a person that Felicity liked, nor trusted, and the fact that a woman who had used them both as pawns was suddenly interested in just handing them information made her hackles rise. If she never saw Amanda Waller again it would be too soon. As far as Felicity was concerned, that woman was the devil.

A sharp sting shot through her arm suddenly, racing along her nerves and causing her fingers to flex involuntarily. Her tablet clattered to the tabletop beside her thigh. She gasped at the sensation, at the unexpected cramp that seized her muscles, and terror crept up her spine. She dug her fingers into the hard plane of Oliver's chest.

"Felicity? Felicity!"

She was struggling to breathe. The pain had intensified, tearing through her shoulder and across her chest, radiating down her back. She would've screamed if it wasn't for the fact that her throat was suddenly swollen closed.

Oliver laid her back on the table quickly before he stepped out of her reach. She wanted him beside her. She wanted to see his face, to hear him tell her that she was going to be okay. But as she lay there in the damp foundry basement, her airways closing and lights dancing in front of her eyes, Felicity didn't know if she would have believed him anyway.

"Come on, baby. It's going to be alright."

He was there again, leaning over her and holding something to her lips. Oliver's hand beneath her head held her aloft enough to allow at least some of the concoction to make it into her mouth. The liquid was warm and bitter as it slid down her throat and her brain registered belatedly that he was feeding her the herbs from Lian Yu. It was a mixture of roots and fungi indigenous to the island that they had learned could counteract almost any type of poison. She'd been poisoned.

When Felicity opened her eyes again, she had no way of knowing how much time had passed. There was no natural light in the basement of the old steel factory, nothing that she could use to judge time of day, but her body ached from lying on the hard table and she didn't feel rested in the slightest. She'd lost consciousness after choking down the herbal water. She had been shot and poisoned – presumably at the same time – on the same day. It was like being back on the island all over again.

She sat up slowly, the movement causing the entire room to tilt up on its side for a moment, and Oliver appeared at the edge of her vision. He caught her gently before she could topple off of the table.

"Hey."

"Hi."

Her voice was hoarse but working and it was no longer a chore to breathe.

"What happened?" she asked, leaning into his warmth where he stood beside her.

"Apparently Deadshot likes to ensure that he does what he's getting paid for. He laces his bullets with curare as insurance. You were really lucky."

She slipped her arm around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. She wasn't sure she could move much more than she already had. Oliver drew her closer, dropping a kiss to the top of her head, and for a long moment, they were silent.

"How long was I out?" she asked after several long minutes.

"A couple of hours. We should go. It'll be morning soon and the last thing that I want is to have another conversation with my mother about where we've been all night. She already thinks that we're avoiding her and evading Diggle."

She set her chin in the center of his chest and grinned up at him.

"Both of which are true."

Oliver shrugged and laced his fingers through her hair. He brought his mouth to hers, their lips slanting, and she melted into his kiss.

He stepped away a few moments later, withdrawing his hands from her hair and letting it fall in a cloud around her shoulders. He smiled down at her.

His eyes were creased with worry and Felicity knew that she had come to close to death thanks to Deadshot's curare-laced bullet. It wasn't the first time that her life had been threatened. It certainly wasn't the only time that she had been on the brink of death. They had both had their fair share of close calls. But things had changed. They weren't on Lian Yu. They weren't in Hong Kong. They weren't under Amanda Waller's thumb. They didn't have to live that way anymore. They could walk away from their mission – deny Robert Queen's last request – and just live their lives.

Suddenly, Felicity ached for it to be that simple.

"Are you ready to go?" Oliver asked.

For a long moment she stared at him. She looked at the man who stood before her, the man who had saved her from the darkness that she had been shrouded in, the man who had somehow learned to love her even though she was damaged. Felicity looked at him and knew that she couldn't ask him to abandon his mission. She wouldn't ask him to give up the goal that had kept him alive for years after the Gambit sank. She would do whatever she could to help him right the wrongs of his father. And then – only when they had accomplished that goal – would she ask him to live a normal, quiet life with her.

"Yeah. I'm ready."


	11. Chapter Ten

**A/N:** Well, I don't know what's happening exactly but I've been writing pretty much non-stop for the last few days. As a result, a new chapter of An Arrow Thru It! Yay! Another huge thank you to my beta **westernbeauty** , your support is greatly appreciated! And to everyone who has been reading both this and Mark of the Angel and all of my little drabbles, thank you thank you

 **An Arrow Thru It**

 **Starling City 2012**

Felicity watched as her soon-to-be sister-in-law scanned the racks in the small boutique. Thea's fingers danced over yards of silk and lace and organza, the creamy ivory and stark white gowns all blending together where they hung like large tufts of cotton. Oliver's mother was speaking to the manager of the bridal shop while Felicity stood on a raised platform with a seamstress flittering around her. She stared at herself in the large, wraparound mirror.

"Alright Ms. Smoak," the associate she'd been introduced to when they'd first arrived – Meg – spoke from behind her, "I've pulled a few different styles for you. Are you ready to get started?"

She forced herself to smile at the other woman and nodded, stepping from the platform and following Meg into the dressing area. There were at least six gowns, all of them lovely, hanging from the rack waiting there.

"Do any of them grab your attention immediately?" Meg questioned.

Felicity took a moment to really look at the options that had been set out for her. She fingered the material of the first one. The top was fitted to the waist, with a high illusion style neckline, the material glittering with tiny crystals. The skirt flared out slightly, cascading in a wave of beautiful tulle that floated to the floor. It looked like a gown straight out of a fairytale. But while she thought that it was a stunning dress, it didn't call to her.

Felicity didn't consider herself to be a picky woman but she didn't have a clear idea of what she wanted to look like on her wedding day. She hadn't done any research. She hadn't bought a single bridal magazine or gone online. She hadn't done much at all in regard to planning their wedding. So when Moira had told her that she had set up an appointment at the exclusive boutique, Felicity had almost declined.

She wanted to move forward with the wedding. She wanted to marry Oliver. But she had reservations about the spectacle that their wedding could become.

Moving onto from the first dress, Felicity passed on the next two before her hand froze on the fourth.

It was an ivory slip dress with a beaded layer over top. The intricate design was stunning and reminded her of something vintage, something from the 20's or 30's, classic but not traditional. She lifted the hanger from the rack, turning the gown this way and that, taking in the details from the cap sleeves to the way the slip dipped in the back. Her back would be exposed, covered only by the sheer beaded layer.

"That is one of my favorites," Meg told her, "Very beautiful but a little more subtle than some of the others. You seem like you could appreciate subtlety."

Felicity nodded, "It's – it's understated. I think I'd like to try this one."

The other woman smiled brightly, taking the gown from her and hanging it on a hook near a small curtained area.

When Felicity stepped into the space only to have Meg follow, she paused. No one had seen her scars. Including the newest addition, the bullet hole Floyd Lawton had left her with. No one but Oliver and Sara and the doctor who had examined her when they'd first returned to Starling City. This woman, this stranger, was going to see more of her than she was comfortable with but she knew that asking her to leave would only make the moment more awkward. Swallowing down her overwhelming discomfort, she waited for the curtain to be pulled shut behind her before she tugged her blouse over her head and stepped out of her skirt. She was left in her bra and panties and the heels she'd worn that morning. The mirror in front of her reflected back every imperfection that marred her flesh and Felicity tried not to stare too hard.

If Meg noticed that anything was wrong, it didn't show. She simply unfastened the button at the back of the neck and lowered the zipper, holding the material up so that Felicity could step into the gown. Once she had pulled the smooth fabric up to her chest, Felicity unclasped her bra and pulled it free of the dress. Meg zipped her up and fastened the button again. When Felicity lifted her head and caught sight of her reflection, she felt her heart stop and then erupt in her chest. She hardly recognized the woman looking back at her.

The dress fit her body well, hugging what little curves that she had and highlighting the freckles that dotted along her shoulders. The scars on her wrists were visible, a nasty reminder of the hell that she'd survived, but Meg didn't comment on them. She simply smiled at her from over her shoulder.

"It's a stunning dress, Ms. Smoak. You look amazing."

She felt the color flood her cheeks.

"Thank you."

"Would you like to show your family?"

Felicity swallowed hard. Moira and Thea would expect her to show them at least a couple of the gowns. It was why they were both there. To share their opinions on the dress that Felicity would potentially walk down the aisle in. And while the idea of letting Moira and Thea see her now didn't frighten her as much as it would have just a few weeks ago, the fact that her own mother – her own family – couldn't be there to share this moment with her caused the sting of tears to burn her eyes. She blinked them away before they could fall, nodding at Meg in the mirror.

"Absolutely."

The other woman helped her carry the extra material of the skirt so that it didn't drag across the boutique floor or become entangled about her legs. It would certainly need to be hemmed and taken in in one or two places but otherwise, Felicity was surprised at how well the gown fit her.

When Meg drew back the curtain and Felicity stepped out into the small salon area, stepping up onto the little platform, she noticed the wide smile on Thea's face and the way the younger woman's eyes sparkled. Felicity glanced quickly at Oliver's mother where she was sitting beside her daughter. Her own expression held a hint of awe.

"Wow. Lis', you look… wow."

Thea shook her head, jumping out of her seat and circling Felicity where she stood.

"This is definitely your dress. I don't even need to see anymore. You look so happy. Do you love it?"

Felicity's eyes flickered to her reflection. Besides the extra material that pooled around her feet, the dress was stunning. The thin satin under layer hugged at her hips before falling in a column around her legs. The beaded top layer was a little more loosely fitted through the bust but not so much so that she looked oddly disproportioned. She felt beautiful. She felt like a woman who deserved an elegant wedding and a handsome groom. She certainly had one of the two already.

"It's wonderful," she admitted softly, her hands trailing gently along the beading.

Meg stepped up beside her.

"Would you like to try on anything else?" she asked.

Felicity glanced at Moira where she remained on the sofa. She wasn't sure why, but she needed the older woman's approval. She wanted to know that Oliver's mother found her choice to be appropriate.

"Mrs. Qu – Moira, what do you… what do you think?"

For a long moment Moira remained motionless. When she did finally stand and approach her, Felicity noticed the slight glimmer of tears in her eyes. She took Felicity's hand, squeezing it tightly.

"You look stunning, dear," his mother assured her, "You will take his breath away."

The tears that Felicity herself had been fighting struck her again, a few of them making their way down her cheeks. Thea's small hand clutched her free one then and Felicity found herself surrounded by the support of the Queen woman. Two people who loved Oliver just as much as she did. Two women who – even though they'd had no reason to- had accepted her into their family. It hadn't been easy at first but she knew now that they had only been concerned for Oliver. Warmth blossomed in her chest when she realized that Moira and Thea recognized the genuineness of her love for their son and brother.

* * *

Felicity stood beside John's prone form. He had been hit by another of Deadshot's bullets – she was really starting to hate Floyd Lawton – and the poison had worked its way into his system as she'd fought the man responsible and Oliver had worked to get John out of the building. In the end, Lawton had escaped with only a few bruises while she'd ended up with an inches long gash on her left forearm. It was a good thing she had already picked out her wedding dress.

"He's going to be fine, Felicity."

She nodded, "I know. The herbs will counteract the curare, we know that much."

Oliver's hand slid up her back over the fitted tank top she wore beneath her jacket. The warmth of his palm chased away the chill of the foundry. Felicity leaned into him.

"Then what's wrong?"

"How do you think he's going to react to this, Oliver?" she asked, watching the rise and fall of their bodyguard's chest where he was laid out in front of them, "To you and me down here in this basement? To the fact that we're the vigilantes that everyone has been talking about? Do you think he's just going to accept the things that we've done? We've – we've killed people. We're criminals. And John is a good man. He'll want to do the right thing. He'll want to turn us in. And how will we stop him? We can't kill him."

Oliver sighed, turning her and drawing her against him. She pressed her face to his chest and closed her eyes. She fit perfectly beneath his chin.

"We'll just have to convince him to join us then."

She laughed, the noise becoming muffled in the cotton of his shirt.

"John is a good man. You're right about that. So we have to help him see that what we're doing has a purpose. These men they – they deserve to die. They've hurt so many people. They've destroyed this city."

"You don't have to convince me. I already agreed to fight beside you. But John… John's going to need time. I've had years with you. I've had the time I needed to accept this mission and what it really means. He's going to wake up here with the two of us after nearly dying and it's going to be a shock to the system. I just… I just don't want to see him angry at us."

Oliver pulled her closer, fitting her against him, and she turned to look at the man who'd taken a bullet because of them. She hadn't voiced her guilt to Oliver but it festered in her gut angrily. If they had only been better at evading him, if their behavior hadn't been so suspicious, maybe he would've stayed with Thea and Walter and Moira at the auction. Maybe, if they hadn't been kidnapped within twenty four hours of arriving in Starling City, they wouldn't have needed a bodyguard in the first place. But it was too late to erase any of those things. It was too late to turn back. Sooner or later, John Diggle was going to know their secret.

 _Sooner_ , Felicity thought.

She watched John's eyes flutter, watched as he blinked up at the ceiling and groaned, before his head rolled towards them. They were still wrapped around one another but their position did nothing to disguise the green leather pants that Oliver wore or the dark purple leggings she wore. They'd discarded their hoods but Oliver hadn't cleaned the oil paint from around his eyes and her own were caked with heavy makeup.

She stepped away from Oliver but froze as John's eyes widened, his expression hardening. His face was still slick with sweat, the collar of his shirt damp, and it was a stark reminder that he could have died. He would have died had they not brought him to the foundry. He would've died had they not risked exposing themselves.

"Oliver? Felicity?"

When John moved to sit up, Felicity was there, reaching for him as he swayed, nearly toppling off the table they had him lying on. He shrugged her off and she took a step back, Oliver's hand landing at the small of her back when she was within reach.

"You're the vigilante. Both of you? You – you're helping him?"

Oliver's tone was calm, "Easy Digg, you were poisoned."

"You son of a bitch."

Their bodyguard was on his feet suddenly, staggering as he lurched towards them. Oliver put himself between her and John.

"We could've taken you anywhere. We could've taken you home. We brought you here."

"You really did lose your mind on that island," John accused.

Felicity flinched. He was angry, he had every right to be, but throwing the island in their faces, in Oliver's face, was harsh. He had no idea what they'd survived there. But Oliver let the words roll off of him.

His hand reached for hers, "Found a couple things along the way."

John ignored Oliver's obvious implication.

"Like what? Archery classes?"

"Clarity. Starling City is dying. It is being poisoned by a criminal elite who don't care who they hurt, as long as they maintain their wealth and power."

It was the truth. And that knowledge was the heart of their mission. The book that Robert Queen had given to his son contained a list of the most poisonous people in Starling City and his last request before he'd shot himself in the head was that Oliver find a way to right his wrongs. And that was exactly what they intended to do.

"And what are you gonna do? Take them all out by your lonesome?"

Oliver shook his head slowly, "No. No, I – we want you to join us. Special Forces out of Kandahar. It's perfect. You're a fellow soldier."

Felicity gripped his hand tightly, squeezing with every bit of her strength in the hope that he would tell her what the hell he thought he was doing. They had never discussed John joining them in their crusade, not seriously. She thought he'd been joking. They'd never discussed bringing anyone else on board. It was dangerous what they were doing, it was deadly. They spent enough of their time worrying about each other, they didn't need to add a third person to the mix that needed protection.

"Oliver, you're not soldiers. You're criminals. Murderers."

"John…"

The man shook his head, glowering at her. She remained behind the shield of Oliver's body. She wasn't afraid of Diggle. She didn't think that he would hurt her. But Oliver's presence – as it always did – gave her strength.

"Don't, Felicity. If anything, I thought that somehow you were the sane one of this duo. But if you're with him on this, then you're just as crazy as he is."

Neither she nor Oliver made a move to stop John as he headed for the stairs. Silence filled the space around them until the door to the main floor of the old factory closed with a resounding clang. Felicity's shoulders sagged immediately.

"Well that went about as well as I expected it to."

Oliver turned to her, gathering her in his arms again, and let his head fall to her shoulder. She wound her arms around his torso.

"You said it yourself, he needs time."

She sighed, "Yeah, but the question is, time for what? To decide if he's going to join us or turn us in to the police? Because let me tell you, I have a feeling that Detective Lance would be happy to throw you in a cell."

His lips grazed the column of her throat as he spoke.

"I don't doubt that. Lance and I – he's never approved of me. Why would he? I wasn't good to Laurel when we were together and then… and then I took Sara on the Gambit. I came back and she didn't."

Felicity's fingers slipped into Oliver's hair, her nails raking along his scalp.

"You were a different man then, Oliver. But what John said, he's right. We're criminals. So what do we do now? While we wait for him to make a decision?"

"We continue on like nothing has changed. It hasn't. Until we know what John is going to do, nothing has to change."

She didn't want to tell him that things already had changed. They'd brought someone else into their base of operations. He'd asked John to join them. And he'd done so without including her in that decision. She certainly wouldn't have let John die but bringing him on as a part of their team? If they had actually had time to discuss it, if he would've asked her if she thought that it was a good idea, she would've said no.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**A/N:** Okay, first of all, HUGE apology on how long it's taking to get these chapters out. I know I keep saying that but I really do mean it. This fic came so easy at first but anymore, my muse is fighting me on this one… anyway, to everyone who has stuck around and left me such kind reviews, your support is greatly appreciated. I'll get the next chapter to you as soon as possible. Promise!

 **Starling City 2012**

Felicity entered Big Belly Burger with her new bodyguard hot on her heels. She was ready to pull her hair out. It had been ten days and Rob – her annoying as hell shadow – was driving her insane. The man had called her ma'am from the moment they'd met even after she had repeatedly instructed him to call her Felicity. She'd gone so far as to use her loud voice to demand it but the request hadn't stuck. On top of that, she found his driving comparative to that of a grandmother and the man didn't speak. She'd tried making idle conversation every time he had to accompany her somewhere but all she ever got from him were monosyllabic replies.

She stopped before she reached the booth where John sat, twirling and holding up her hand to halt Rob.

"Stay," she ordered, "Just – just stay here for a minute, okay? I need to talk to my friend and I don't need you lurking over my shoulder."

His eyes flickered to John who hadn't noticed her arrival. He gave her a stiff nod, crossing his arms over his chest as he not-so-casually observed the dining room.

She sighed, slipping into the seat across from Diggle.

"Felicity."

She noticed that his arm was still cradled in a sling, a blatant reminder of the gunshot wound he'd suffered at the hands of Floyd Lawton.

"Hi, John."

"What are you doing here?"

Felicity gave him a gentle smile, folding her hands on the table in front of her.

"I couldn't help but notice a distinct lack of police presence around the mansion… I had really hoped you wouldn't drop the dime on us."

They'd arrived home the night of the Unidac auction to a quiet home. Well, as quiet as they could've hoped. Oliver's family had been distraught when they'd disappeared during the shooting. She had tried to tell him to call his mother or Thea and just let someone know that they were alright but Oliver had been too distracted with Diggle and what they were going to say to him when he'd regained consciousness. The result of their radio silence had been all out panic when they'd arrived back at the mansion. Thea had been livid.

She kept her voice neutral as she asked, "Have you considered our offer?

John glowered at her.

"Offer? That's a different way to put it."

Felicity resisted the urge to sigh. Instead, she reached across the table, setting one of her hands over his free one.

"It is an offer, John. It's – it's a chance for you to do good. The kind of good that compelled you to join the military," she told him.

"Oh please. Do you honestly believe what you're saying to me? I'd expect this from him. Oliver was born with a platinum spoon in his mouth, Felicity. So, what? He spends five years on an island and suddenly he's found religion?"

She fell back against the booth and dropped the pleasantries. Her hackles rose as the protectiveness she felt for Oliver swelled. She understood that John was upset. They hadn't exactly been taking money from the rich and giving it to the poor a la Robin Hood. They'd killed people. She knew how it seemed. But if she had to hear John throw that island back in their faces one more time, she was going to lose control.

Felicity drew Robert's notebook from her purse and slid it across this table.

"This belonged to Robert Queen. Oliver he… he found it when he buried him. John, Robert was alive when the Gambit went down," she explained coldly, "He saved Oliver. Pulled him into a life raft. And when Oliver buried his body on Lian Yu, he found this."

John's gaze dropped to the notebook before meeting hers again. She saw the recognition dawn there.

"Buried him? If he was alive when –"

She shrugged, "He shot himself. In front of Oliver. As a way to help him survive. They didn't have enough food or water. There was hardly enough for Oliver. I know that you think that what Oliver and I went through on Lian Yu was like a bad vacation, but you have no idea what it was like for us there."

She raised a hand to cut off whatever John wanted to say in response, shaking her head. She hadn't meant to snap at him, to let the words come out. She wasn't about to explain.

"Before he died, Robert urged Oliver to save this city. He wanted to atone for his sins and he thought that Oliver, somehow, would be able to help with that. He needs to right the wrongs done by his family… and what he's asking, what we're offering, is a chance for you to right the wrongs done to yours."

"What are you talking about?"

Felicity looked him square in the eye.

"The police never caught your brother's shooter."

"Leave Andy out of this, Felicity," John snapped, pointing his finger at her.

"His killer laced his bullets with curare. That's Floyd Lawton's MO. He's the assassin that I stopped. "

John looked alarmed. And confused.

"Are you trying to tell me that you took down Andy's killer?"

Felicity shook her head, "I stopped him from killing you. But I'd be lying to you and to myself if I tried to convince you that Lawton was dead. Look, John, I didn't know that Oliver was going to open all of this up to you. We didn't talk about it first. And, to be honest, I wish he hadn't asked you. Would I have let you die from the curare? Absolutely not. But I sure as hell wouldn't have asked you to be a part of this crusade. What we're doing… it's dangerous. And admittedly a little insane. But Oliver is convinced that this is what he has to do."

"Why are you here and not him?" John questioned.

"Because you think that I'm the moral compass of the two of us," she shrugged, "And I wish that I could say that you're right. I guess… I don't know. I just know that Oliver is trying to give you a chance to help other people's families. He claims that there was a time when people in this city would actually help each other and he's convinced that they can't do that anymore because of people like Robert Queen. People who see nothing wrong with raising themselves up by stepping on other people's throats. Oliver believes that it needs to stop and I agree with him. And if it isn't going to be the cops or the courts, then it's going to be Oliver and I. And - we hope - you."

She slid out of the booth, tugging at the hem of her top, and fished her phone from her purse. She was expecting Oliver to call.

"What changed your mind?"

Felicity paused in her movements and found John watching her expectantly.

"Why are _you_ asking me to join your team?"

She shrugged, "Because I have faith in Oliver. And because he believes that we need you. I don't want you to get hurt, John. I don't want any of us getting hurt. But Oliver wants you on our side, mostly because he doesn't want you against us, I think. Just… just consider the offer. Please."

Felicity's phone buzzed in her hand and she glanced at the screen. It was a text from Oliver. She turned toward the restroom and felt Rob move with her. She spun around, finding him entirely too close, and shoved a harsh finger in the middle of his chest.

"I'm going to the ladies' room, Rob. Back off."

And as the door to the restroom closed behind her, she headed directly for the only window.

* * *

"Sara!"

She woke with her friend's name dying on her lips as the images her subconscious had conjured up began to fade away. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her pulse racing, and it took longer than Felicity liked for the room to come into focus. The warm hand that slipped up her spine told her that her nightmare had woken Oliver as well.

"You okay?" he questioned gently.

She nodded, biting her lip to stem the burn of tears that suddenly bit at her eyes.

Felicity couldn't explain where the dream had come from. It had been a long time since she'd seen Sara's death in her mind, since she'd let herself picture the moment that she'd been swept away as the Amazo sank. Her mind had, of course, twisted the events into something even more sinister, into something that swamped her with an immense sense of guilt. And that guilt would eat at her for days to come.

She felt the heat of Oliver's body seep into her skin as he sat up beside her, wrapping her in his arms and urging her to rest against him. She let her head fall to his shoulder as her eyes slipped closed.

"Do you ever… do you ever feel like you owe it to Sara to make sure that her family is safe? That the reason that you're so drawn to protecting Laurel is because of her?"

She felt Oliver tense behind her, his arms squeezing her just a little bit tighter.

"Because I do," she whispered, her voice getting lost in the darkness of their bedroom, "I see her and I think – I think that it's what Sara would've wanted. She just wanted to do what was right by her family. She told me once that, if she ever made it home, she would have so much to apologize for. But she didn't make it home. And I feel like… I feel like it's my responsibility to make up for the fact that Sara died saving me. If the two of you hadn't come for me, he would've killed me. But Sara's gone and I'm still here."

Oliver's lips brushed gently just below her ear and his chin settled in the curve of her neck. She felt his breath ghost over her naked flesh.

"Felicity, Sara wouldn't want you to feel this way. But I understand. I don't know if … I don't know if my guilt stems from exactly the same place, the same moment, but I never stop thinking that if I hadn't been in a relationship with her, if we'd never gone behind Laurel's back, then Sara wouldn't have boarded the Gambit that morning. She would've been home safe with her family. We never would've ended up on that island, fighting for our lives. And she'd be here now, living her life. She would've had the chance to really live. To be happy."

Felicity clutched Oliver's forearms where they were crossed over her abdomen. She nuzzled into his cheek.

"Laurel could've died tonight, Oliver."

"I know."

She sighed, "Maybe we should… maybe you should try to keep your distance from her."

He released her almost immediately and Felicity winced at the loss of contact. She shifted to face him, tugging the bedcovers up around herself, and watched as Oliver shoved a hand into his hair.

"I'm trying, Felicity. What do you want me to do? I can't help the fact that she's connected to so many names on the list."

Their most recent target had been a man named Jason Brodeur. Brodeur had arranged for a man, Peter Declan, to be framed for his wife's murder. Declan had been on death row and Laurel had been their only way to get information from Declan. But recruiting Laurel for their cause, even briefly, had nearly cost her her life. When Laurel had begun working to exonerate Declan, Brodeur had targeted her. The riot at Iron Heights had been cover for the attempt on Declan and Laurel's lives.

Felicity grasped the hand fisted at Oliver's side, prying his fingers apart until she could press her palm to his. She lifted their joined hands and pressed them to her chest.

"Oliver, I know. I'm sorry. I just… I don't want us to be the reason that Detective Lance loses another daughter."

His fingers tightened around hers and when he tugged, she let herself be pulled into his chest. She settled against him.

Early morning sunlight was peeking through the curtains, shafts of light falling across the bed, and Felicity watched the dust float in them.

They had agreed that only one of them would go into the prison when the riot had broken out. It'd made the most sense for him to go. As a man, he could dress as a guard and hide in plain side. She'd remained in the foundry, monitoring the activity at the prison through the police bands and a hacked feed into the prison's security setup. And she'd been afraid for him. She'd been afraid for Laurel and Declan but her fear for Oliver had been overwhelming.

Oliver nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, the stubble along his jaw no doubt leaving her tender skin with abrasions, and Felicity wound her arms around his shoulders. She rested her chin against his temple.

"She'd be really proud of you, you know."

She held him tighter even as he drew her into his lap. Felicity wrapped herself around him, her legs finding their way around his waist, getting as close to him as she possibly could.

"She'd be proud of you, too, Oliver. All Sara ever wanted was for us to get off of that god forsaken island."

He shook his head, easing his face from her shoulder so that he was able to look her in the eye.

"She wanted us to _live,_ Felicity."

Felicity sighed. She carded her fingers through the short hair at the back of his head.

"Is that really what we're doing? Living? Is this the life that she wanted for us? Hunting down criminals night after night? Fighting to save this city that we had no part in destroying?"

She choked on the words as they left her lips.

Sara had been her closest companion. She'd been her friend, her sister, and there had been more than one occasion where they'd talked about how their lives would be should they ever be rescued. Her friend didn't want her to become a vigilante. Sara wouldn't have approved of the mission that they were executing. She'd told Felicity so many times, in the early morning hours on Lian Yu, of the picturesque life that she wished for her.

She had no doubt that Sara would be proud of them for fighting their way home. She would be proud of them for sticking together, for not giving up on one another, but she most definitely would not approve of the life that they'd chosen for themselves.

"If you don't want to continue, Felicity, you don't have to."

She blinked at his words, the action sending hot tears cascading down her cheeks.

"I never said that."

"You don't have to. I can see it in your eyes. You want something else for your life," he said gently, "Something safe."

She took his face into her hands quickly, holding him steady so that he couldn't look away.

"I want you, Oliver."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he pressed his forehead to hers.

"Oh baby, I don't doubt that. I want you, too. So much. But if you want to step back, if you need to put distance between yourself and our mission, I understand. You have no ties to this city. My father… my father asked _me_ to right his wrongs, sweetheart, not you. I can do this alone."

She shook her head, "No, the thought of you out there night after night with no one to watch your back, I –"

"I talked to John today."

His words surprised her.

"And?"

"And he's agreed to be a part of this. He wants to help."

He held her with one arm wrapped around her waist, the other around her shoulders. His fingers tangled in the tendrils of hair that hung down her back. She felt the rise and fall of his chest where they were pressed together.

She hadn't ever considered having the option to step down. To put a few feet between herself and the danger that accompanied their crusade. She'd spent so many years fighting to survive. Whether on Lian Yu or in Hong Kong or in Russia. All Felicity could remember of the last five years of her life was the battles that she had survived. The prospect of being able to do something else was mystifying. But leaving Oliver to fight alone wasn't an option.

"I can't. I can't just leave you. Not now."

The hand in her hair gripped the tresses tightly.

"Who said anything about leaving me?" he murmured, "I'm not letting you go anywhere. But if I've got John out in the field with me, maybe that means that you can stay behind. In the foundry. Work your magic from there. All we need is an updated computer system."

She groaned, "Ugh. Don't I know it. That dinosaur that you brought me is just not going to cut it if you expect me to be your eyes and ears. I need a new setup, Oliver."

"Yes, dear."

Felicity grinned, "I really like the sound of that."

Oliver laughed, twisting until she fell to her back with the weight of his body pressing her into the mattress. His warm mouth attacked her throat and she sighed happily.

"Are you sure that it's okay? Me stepping down, I mean."

He looked down at her, smiling sweetly.

"If it's what you need, of course. Felicity, I just want you to be happy."

She dug her blunt nails into his shoulders.

"As long as I have you in my life, Oliver, I am."


	13. Chapter Twelve

**A/N:** Okay, first and foremost, again, HUGE thanks to everyone out there who is still reading this. I promise I'm working on this fic as much as humanly possible. Also, to my beta westernbeauty, you are such an amazing lady and I really all of your support!

Second thing. To those who hadn't caught on, Felicity's back story is very dark. Very very dark. What happened to her on Lian Yu is pretty much the worst thing I could think of. So, that being said, there are definitely some triggers in this one. If you want to avoid, you can skip that flashback scene and jump to present day (a little more than halfway through).

 **An Arrow Thru It**

 **Lian Yu 2009**

Felicity jerked free of Oliver's grasp and stumbled away from him. Her chest was heaving, her lungs struggling to take in enough air. Sara sat a few feet outside of the circle that they'd created for themselves. She was observing their interactions in silence, commenting only when Felicity's panic swelled to unbearable levels and her words were the only things that soothed her.

She bounced on the balls of her feet, dancing away from Oliver.

They'd been in the clearing for hours. Slade had disappeared early in the day, not bothering to tell any of them where he was going, but Felicity couldn't find it in her to be bothered by his absence. There was something about Slade Wilson that turned her stomach. He hadn't been happy with her arrival at their camp nearly a month earlier. He'd done nothing to harm or threaten her directly, but he hadn't been welcoming either. There was something in the way that he looked at her that had Felicity convinced that the man would throw her off of the first cliff that they came to.

She was suddenly wrenched off of her feet by a strong arm that snaked around her waist. A terrified gasp tore from her throat and Felicity dug her nails into the steel band that encased her abdomen. She kicked and flailed and did everything she could to break free. The vice-like grip that he had on her tightened in an effort to still her and the horror that Felicity had worked so hard to keep at bay slammed into her like a freight train. Flashes of those dark days in a cage in the bowels of the Amazo overwhelmed her. She felt the phantom hands of a dozen men sliding across of body, felt their heated breaths panting against the back of her neck. Her stomach lurched and bile burned its way up her throat.

"No! Please, please, let me go! No!"

Tears stung her eyes as she cried, as she screamed for freedom from the nightmare that she couldn't seem to escape. They'd left her alone for so long. For weeks she'd been safe and free from the excruciating pain that they regularly inflected on her. She had finally healed, was finally able to move on her own without feeling as though she was being run through with a hot poker.

"Felicity! Felicity, stop, it's okay!"

She thrashed wildly, throwing her head back hard and connecting with her attacker's face. Pain exploded in her skull, doing nothing to help her roiling stomach, and the grip around her loosened. She shoved away and dropped to her knees. Her stomach heaved.

"Shh, Felicity, shh. You're alright."

The weight of a small, feminine hand fell across her back. It moved slowly, rubbing circles between her shoulder blades as the contents of her stomach resurfaced. The sound of Sara's voice broke through pounding in her head. The light of the day couldn't chase away the memory of the horrors she'd survived on the ship. It eased them some, but she knew that there was nothing in the world that would erase them from her mind.

"Is she – is she okay?"

Oliver's voice drew her the rest of the way out of her own memories, bringing her fully back into the present. They had been sparring. He and Sara had been teaching her how to defend herself. It had been his arm that had been wrapped around her. His body at her back.

"Oh god, Oliver," she muttered, moving clumsily to her feet, "I'm sorry."

When she caught sight of the blood dripping from his nose and the cut on his lip, she winced.

"I – I didn't…"

He moved forward slowly and her body jerked back, the action completely involuntarily. She wasn't afraid of Oliver. She trusted him. He'd been nothing but kind and patient with her.

Oliver froze, his expression gentle, and held up his hands. He took a step back.

"It's fine. I'm fine. Are you okay?"

She nodded once. Her arms came around her middle and her eyes fell to her feet.

Sara's hand touched her bicep and Felicity started. She gazed at her friend where she stood beside her. Sara looked between her and Oliver.

Felicity swallowed hard, "Sara, can … can you give us a minute please?"

"Of course."

She remained motionless as Sara turned to Oliver. She touched his forearm as she passed, squeezing it lightly, but his eyes never left Felicity. They stood in silence until Sara had disappeared into the tree line at Oliver's back.

She cleared her throat nervously.

"I – I'm sure you think you know what happened to me," she began, "I mean, you saw my injuries. You carried me out of that place. I'm sure you have some idea. But I … I think maybe it's time for me to tell you the whole story."

Oliver shook his head, his body surging forward on reflex. Felicity forced herself to remain still.

"You don't have to," Oliver insisted.

His arms hung at his sides but Felicity could see the way he rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. It was a clear indication that he was having difficulty keeping his hands idle. She wished that she had the courage to reach out to him. She wasn't certain when it had started, but she'd found herself fantasizing about having him touch her. Mostly she wanted to feel his warm hands entangled with her own.

"I want to, Oliver. Please. I need you to hear the truth. Some of what you've imagined is probably way worse than what actually happened… then again, some of it's probably a lot nicer than what I actually had to … had to go through."

Felicity turned away from him. She found a spot in the trees, a glimpse of sunlight glittering off the surface of a small inlet that she used as her focal point. The words would be hard enough to say, she couldn't witness Oliver's disgust while she said them.

She took a slow breath in an attempt to settle her racing heart.

"My father is the reason that I ended up here. He was a scientist. A biochemist. Anthony Ivo was his colleague and they'd been working on a theory that certain people have a unique combination of chemicals in their brain that allow them to … to possess certain abilities. Kinetic abilities."

Felicity rubbed her hands along her arms. She forced her eyes to remain open, keeping her gaze locked on that sliver of glistening water in the distance.

"Because of my intelligence, my father was convinced that I possessed one of these abilities. He swore that he saw me use telekinesis as a child," she explained, "I've never done anything like what he described, Oliver. But my father had convinced himself and Ivo that I was some kind of anomaly. Truth is, I'm just a normal girl with an above average IQ."

With her arms crossed, she grasped her elbows. She was already trembling.

"Ivo murdered my father not long after he brought me here. When it turned out that I couldn't perform the tricks he expected me to perform, he killed my father in a fit of rage. I expected him to kill me, too. I wasn't of any use to him. But he – he found other ways to use me."

Her stomach churned sickeningly. Felicity clamped her mouth shut, drawing slow, even breaths through her nose to chase away the nausea.

She heard Oliver shift behind her and braced herself for his touch. It never came but he had drawn close enough that she could feel the heat of him at her back.

"Felicity, you don't –"

"Please. I – I have to."

He fell quiet and Felicity turned to face him. He was close enough that a single step would put her in his arms. She remained frozen in place, her eyes locked somewhere in the middle of his broad chest. His t-shirt was damp with sweat.

"You've seen some of the scars. You know that, when you and Sara found me, I was… I wasn't wearing much. I'm sure you can imagine… Ivo let his men do whatever they wanted, Oliver. He thought that I would help him. He thought that, since he had murdered my father in front of me, I would cooperate. And when he realized that I hadn't been scared enough into becoming his sidekick, he gave me to his men. What they did to me was far worse than death."

She watched Oliver's shoulders heave as he took a deep breath.

"They raped you."

A tear slipped down her cheek.

"Yes. And that wasn't the worst of it."

Oliver's hands trembled where they hung at his sides. Felicity reached for him, linking their fingers so that they were palm to palm.

"The men that work for Ivo are mercenaries. Monsters. They're cold blooded killers who couldn't have cared less about the pain that they'd inflicted. They – they would beat me. Whip me. One of them, he … he would take his hunting knife and he'd stab me. It was never deep enough to do any permanent damage. But he'd cut me so many times that I'd black out from the pain. Which, I guess, was a blessing. What came after was so much worse."

" _God._ "

The crack in his voice halted Felicity's words. A mountain of grief crashed over her and a sob escaped her. Oliver tugged her into his chest, his arms like steel as they wrapped around her.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, "I'm so sorry."

"Shh. Felicity, you have nothing to be sorry for."

She gasped, the knot in her throat making it difficult to breathe, and she clutched the cotton of his shirt. A tremor ran through her and Oliver's hold was the only thing that kept her knees from buckling.

"You're okay. You're going to be okay. I've got you."

She shook her head, sobbing. Pain and agony and sorrow warred for dominance inside of her. But then the revulsion swept through her, shoving everything else aside.

"You – you don't understand! I let them do those things to me, Oliver! I – I stopped fighting! I stopped trying to get away! I gave up!"

He held her as she sagged against him. The strength of his arms around her reassured her in a way that she couldn't describe.

"Hey, hey, Felicity. Look at me."

His finger beneath her chin urged her to do just that.

"You did nothing wrong. _Nothing._ Do you hear me? Those awful things happened _to_ you. You didn't let them happen. You're not responsible. And after everything that you've just told me, all that you've done is proven how resilient you are, how brave. You lived through hell, sweetheart. No one would ever blame you for surviving."

Felicity pressed her face to his chest, hiding her eyes as more tears fell.

She'd expected to see disgust in his eyes when she told him the truth of her time on the Amazo. At the very least she had expected pity. But when he'd looked at her with compassion and understanding, something inside of her melted. It had only been three weeks but Felicity was certain that she was falling in love with Oliver Queen.

* * *

 **Starling City 2012**

She tucked a loose strand of hair into the fancy twist at the back of her head and stared at her reflection.

Thea had enlisted a team of beauticians and hair dressers to help them prepare for the party that would be starting at any moment. It had been Oliver's idea, a way to set things back to the way that they'd once been, and Felicity had been happy to go along with it. At least until the youngest Queen had cornered her with a million questions about what she was going to wear and how she planned on styling her hair.

Felicity shook her head and slipped a sparkling sapphire earring into her ear. On loan from Thea, of course.

"You look beautiful."

She started, her gaze flickering to find him coming out of the walk-in closet. He wore charcoal grey slacks and a stark white shirt, a midnight blue tie that matched her gown perfectly knotted neatly at his throat. He looked delectable and if they had any time, she'd find a way to strip him of that wonderful ensemble and enjoy an early Christmas present.

"I'm not even dressed yet, Oliver," she told him, grinning.

She was sitting in front of her vanity mirror in her bra and panties, her gown hanging on the back of their bedroom door just waiting for her to step into it.

"Doesn't matter."

He came to stand behind her, his large hands settling on her shoulders. His thumbs stroked along her collarbones. They stared at one another in the mirror for a long moment, the heat of his gaze causing a flush to creep up her neck and into her cheeks. Oliver leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Do you need any help getting into the dress?"

She shook her head, "No, I think I can manage. You should head down. I'm sure people have started arriving by now and considering this whole thing was your idea…"

Oliver sighed, squeezing her shoulders briefly, before leaving her alone to finish getting ready.

She stared at her gown where it hung on the door. She'd never been to a party as fancy as the one that Oliver had insisted on throwing. The gown had been a gift from her fiancé, one that she'd tried to refuse but had secretly loved.

A beeping emanated from the tablet that lay on the dresser beside her and Felicity snatched it up. She'd been doing what Oliver had suggested for nearly two months. Working behind the scenes while he and Diggle operated in the field. She was grateful to be a part of the mission, of being able to stand beside him to the best of her ability. He'd been right. She needed a break. She needed time to step away from the danger and the violence. And knowing that John had Oliver's back had made it easier for her to move away.

She sighed as she read the report on her tablet. The mysterious copycat archer had struck again. Nelson Ravich was dead and the media was blaming his murder on the Hood. On Oliver. She tapped out a command on the computer, forwarding the notifications to her phone, before removing the soft satin slip dress from the hanger and stepping into it. It was cool and smooth against her skin and Felicity ran her fingers along the material.

The sudden knock on the door startled her and Felicity barely had time to step out of the way before it swung open. Thea came in, the black and gold dress she wore just a tiny bit too short in Felicity's opinion, followed quickly by Oliver. He shut the door behind him with a snap.

"What the hell do you think you were doing, Thea?"

"I could ask you the same thing!" his sister shouted, "You didn't have to kick him out!"

Felicity bounced back and forth between the siblings, trying to keep up.

"You should be down at the party! A party I threw for you, by the way."

She winced, watching Thea for a reaction. Standing off to the side, it was as if she were invisible to the pair of them. Which, Felicity mused, was probably a good thing. Oliver and Thea needed to have this conversation without her interfering.

"All this party is doing is bringing back memories I am trying to forget!"

Oliver's face fell. He hadn't seen Thea's reaction coming. He'd wanted to bring the Christmas spirit into the house again, to give his family back something that they had lost when the Gambit had sank. He had hoped that the party would make Thea happy and that it would bring Walter and Moira closer. And while Felicity had supported him in the endeavor, she had had an inkling that the gesture wasn't going to be as well received as he'd hoped.

"Why would you want to forget?" Oliver asked, the hurt edging into his voice evident to Felicity's ears.

Thea didn't seem to notice.

His sister scoffed, shaking her head.

"No matter how big or how fancy of a party you throw, nothing will ever be the same in our family again."

And then she was gone in a whirlwind of dark hair and designer dress. The bedroom door shut behind her and Felicity watched Oliver sink down on the edge of the bed. She glided carefully across the floor, the tight skirt of her dress restricting her mobility slightly, and lifted her hand to his hair.

"I just wanted the holidays to be a good memory," he confessed, "For Thea and my mother. For you."

"Oliver."

He sighed, "I should've asked them how they felt about it rather than telling them that we were having this party at all costs."

Felicity sat herself on Oliver's knee and his hand slid around her back, balancing her there. His chin found its way to her shoulder.

"You and I have never had good memories of the holidays, Felicity. In the time that we were away, whether we were on the island or in Hong Kong or Russia, there was nothing happy about Christmas."

"Jewish, remember?" she said lightly.

He chuckled, "Of course. You're right."

She combed her fingers through his hair, pressing her lips to the top of his head.

"But I know what you mean. And I appreciate what you did, with the party, for us and your family. I do. I love you. And I want to make all sorts of happy memories with you," she assured him, "So maybe we should actually head down there and say hello to everyone. I mean, you couldn't have even had a glass of champagne before you and Thea were bursting in here like there was a fire."

He shook his head, the arm around her waist holding her close, and for a few long moments neither of them moved. Eventually, Felicity stood, taking Oliver's hand and pulling him to his feet. She led him from the room and to the party waiting for them downstairs.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**A/N:** I cannot express enough how sorry I am for taking so long with this chapter. I know that I didn't promise a posting timeline on this one like I did with Mark of the Angel but I didn't mean to let it take as long as it has. Hopefully when MotA is finished, I can focus on this one. Anyway, here's a new chapter! I would love to hear what you all think! And a huge thanks to my beta westernbeauty for taking on the task of betaing this fic and MotA.

 **Starling City 2012**

She let Oliver lead her out onto the dance floor. One arm slipped around her, his palm scorching where it settled at the small of her back, and Felicity draped her arm around his neck. It was a stretch for her, even in her heels. Their clasped hands rested over his heart.

"The house is so beautiful," she said softly, "The trees and the lights. The decorators did a wonderful job. It feels like Christmas."

Oliver chuckled, "Didn't you just remind me that you're Jewish?"

"Well, yes, but that doesn't mean that I can't appreciate how beautiful everything is."

He drew her infinitesimally closer and Felicity pressed up on her toes to meet him as he bent to kiss her. The kiss lingered, their mouths slanting, their tongues teasing. When he pulled away, she was left breathless.

"I love you."

Something about the look in his eyes and the passion in his words caused her cheeks to heat.

"I love you, too, Oliver."

"We should get married."

She snorted, "Pretty sure I already agreed to that."

The hand at her back flexed, his fingers digging into her tense muscles.

"Now. I think we should get married now. Tonight, tomorrow, as soon as possible."

Felicity stopped moving, forcing Oliver to stop along with her. They stood in the middle of the ballroom floor, neither of them blinking or speaking or breathing, in Felicity's case.

"Are you saying that you want to elope?" she asked.

He'd suggested it before. The morning after he'd proposed to her while they'd been on their way to an impromptu engagement brunch. But she'd been having a panic attack then as she'd listened to Thea go on and on about the grandiose party she had in mind for their wedding. She hadn't really considered his words. She hadn't really considered what he was offering.

She shook her head, "Your mom and Thea have put so much effort into planning this for us, Oliver. I don't want to spoil it for them."

Oliver tugged on her hand and Felicity followed him off of the floor and down an empty hallway. He drew her into what used to be his father's office. He sat in the tall leather chair behind the desk and tugged her into his lap.

"We've done this once before, remember?"

"How could I forget?"

She toyed with his fingers where he grasped her thigh.

"I want to marry you, sweetheart. For real. Legally."

Felicity sighed, "You know that, in my heart, you and I are already married. You have been my husband for a long time, Oliver. In every sense. At least in the ones that matter. So we don't have a marriage license and we're not wearing rings - well, you're not. But you know what I mean. Even before Russia, before Anatoly convinced us that the only way to survive the Bratva was to claim to be married, I knew that I would spend the rest of my life with you. Of course, back then, I really had no idea how much longer I had…"

"I want those things, you know? The ring, the marriage license. I want the world to know that I belong to you."

Felicity sighed and carded her fingers through his hair.

"We could always make you a t-shirt," she teased.

Oliver chuckled.

Their so-called wedding in Russia had been hastily planned and covertly executed. As far as the world knew back then, Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak were dead. They couldn't very well have a marriage certificate drawn up with their real names so Anatoly had ushered them into the back room of an orthodox church where a priest – who Felicity had been pretty sure was coerced into assisting them – performed the shortest ceremony known to man. She hadn't even had a nice dress to wear or a ring to slip onto her new husband's finger. It had been a lackluster experience, to say the least.

"That night was fun," she reminded him, "A beautiful hotel room. Our first time together. The wedding itself may not have been anything to write home about but the wedding night…"

Oliver nipped at her naked shoulder and she shivered.

A quick knock sounded half a second before the office door opened. When Moira appeared, Felicity made to stand and move away from his lap but Oliver wouldn't let her. He kept her anchored to him with one hand on her hip and the other across her thighs. His mother didn't seem bothered by the obvious display of intimacy but that didn't stop the heat of a blush from creeping into Felicity's cheeks.

"This is your party, Oliver. We have guests who expect a moment of your attention. Including Mr. Merlyn and Ms. Lance," she reminded them.

Felicity stiffened. She was well aware that Oliver had invited both Tommy and Laurel to the party. She had even encouraged him to do so when his friends had started dating openly. But she'd yet to have a pleasant encounter with his ex. Each time that she spoke to Laurel Lance, the attorney had approached her with forced politeness and barely concealed contempt. And while she knew that the other woman's attitude wasn't driven solely by jealousy, she hadn't been blind to the shock that Laurel had expressed when Oliver had confirmed that they were, in fact, engaged. She couldn't blame her. Felicity knew enough about the man that Oliver had been before the island. She knew about the boy that Laurel had loved. Ollie hadn't been ready to commit to anyone. He hadn't been capable of monogamy let alone marriage. It was easy for Felicity to accept Laurel's iciness. She didn't like it but she at least understood where the other woman was coming from.

"Of course, Mom. We'll be right there."

Moira looked between them for a moment before nodding. She stepped out of the room, beginning to shut the door behind her, only to think better of it. She left it open and disappeared down the hallway.

Oliver's warm lips grazed her shoulder again, his teeth scraping the swell of her bicep.

"You'll tell me if you change your mind, right?"

She frowned.

"About what?"

"Eloping."

"Oh, right. Of course I'll tell you. But, Oliver, don't be too disappointed if it doesn't happen."

He held onto her even as she stood, his hands finding her hips easily. With her heels on (and Oliver still seated) she towered over him. She took his face in her hands and tipped his head back.

"I know that I was a little overwhelmed at first but I… I'm kind of looking forward to it. The dress, the flowers, the cake, the rings. I want your family – _our_ family – to be there when we say our vows. I want them to hear the words, Oliver. I need them to hear those words so that they can really, truly understand what you mean to me."

Oliver surged to his feet, crowding her back into the edge of the desk, and reversed their positions with ease. He cupped her face with both hands as hers fell to the lapels of his jacket.

"Felicity."

His mouth crashed against hers and she opened for him immediately. She moaned at his taste, the spicy hint of the whiskey he'd been drinking flooding her senses. She clutched at his jacket and whimpered when he bit her plump lower lip.

"God, I love you."

She grinned.

"I know. Now come on before you mom sends Digg back here to commandeer us or something."

Felicity linked her arm with his – in part a show of unity and in part because that brief kiss had left her feeling unsteady – and led Oliver back out to their Christmas party.

* * *

 **Lian Yu 2009**

Sara found her in the clearing alone. She had pushed Oliver away after her confession and while he'd been reluctant to leave her, she'd insisted.

Her thoughts were jumbled. Her brain and her heart were at war. She knew that her feelings for Oliver were irrational and likely brought on by the stress of their situation. They were stranded together. Oliver and Sara and Felicity and Slade. They were trapped in this hellish place and he was the only one there who had offered her kindness. He'd been the only man who had been decent to her. He'd been the first in a long time. She trusted him.

"Hey."

Sara appeared in her line of sight a few moments after Felicity realized that she was there.

"Hey."

Her friend sat across from her and mirrored her position. Felicity picked a blade of grass from the damp soil. She waited for Sara to say something.

"Ollie was really worried about you out here by yourself."

Felicity bit the inside of her cheek.

"I'm fine now. I – I probably scared him a little with all the sobbing and the horror stories…"

The forced smile on Sara's face held more than a hint of sadness. She laid a gentle hand on her knee.

"He cares about you. I can see it on his face every time he looks at you. He's a good guy, Felicity. He has a big heart."

Felicity stared at her hands.

She knew that Sara and Oliver had ended up in this place together. They'd been _together._ She'd learned a lot about them both in the few weeks since they'd carried her off of the Amazo. She saw the familiarity between them, the looks that they shared, the small touches. They were never openly affectionate in front of her but Felicity could see that something more than friendship existed between them. She wouldn't be the girl who pined for someone else's boyfriend.

"Oliver is the first guy in a long time who hasn't tried to hurt me," she mumbled, "That makes him one of the good guys in my book. But I don't want his pity. Or yours. Neither of you are responsible for what happened to me."

"Hey, no one is pitying you."

She lifted her head and met Sara's gaze. She saw concern reflecting back at her but there was no pity.

She sighed, her posture deflating.

"I'm sorry. I'm just – I…"

"He isn't my boyfriend."

Felicity felt heat flood her face. She turned away, looking off into the trees over Sara's shoulder.

"Ollie and me, we weren't dating when we left on the yacht. Actually, he was dating my sister. We were cheating."

Felicity felt her stomach lurch at that. Maybe he's not such a good guy, she thought. She only shrugged in response to what Sara told her.

"We were both young and stupid. We cared about each other, we still do, but I don't love him. Not like that. He's been friends with my sister since we were kids. They started dating in high school but they didn't have the most stable relationship."

Felicity wasn't sure she wanted to hear any more. She liked the version of Oliver that she knew now. She was pretty sure that she wouldn't like 'Ollie' if Sara kept talking.

"You had an affair with your sister's boyfriend?" she asked, unable to hide the judgment in her tone.

It was Sara's turn to shrug.

"Like I said, we were young and stupid."

Felicity snorted.

"Do you love your sister?"

"Of course."

"Then… then why? If you didn't love him and she did, then why would you do that to her?"

Sara sighed and sat back, leaning away from Felicity with her arms stretched out behind her.

"Do you have any siblings?" she asked.

Felicity shook her head.

"Laurel and I… we may be sisters but we're not really friends. We've never gotten along, never had anything in common. But she's always been my parents' favorite. She's smarter than me and she's driven, she knows exactly what she wants to do with her life," Sara explained, shrugging, "Being with Ollie was my way of – of ruining this perfect life that Laurel had."

They stared at one another as Felicity took in Sara's words and tried to assess the real meaning behind them.

"You were jealous of her."

Sara shrugged again, "She was so perfect and my life was completely out of control. I'd made a mess of college. I was too busy drinking and partying to worry about anything else. That's actually how Ollie and I got started. We ran into each other at a frat party and things just sort of… snowballed from there."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry if I sounded like I was judging you. I mean, let's face it, I was. I don't agree with it – the cheating – but I guess I can understand where you were coming from. Laurel was getting a lot of attention from your parents and you wanted someone to pay attention to you. That someone was Oliver."

"I hope that the mistake that Ollie and I made doesn't change your opinion of him. He really is a good guy, Felicity. And he really does care about you."

Felicity feigned indifference.

"My opinion of him doesn't matter."

Sara smirked, her eyes lighting up with recognition.

"You like him."

"I told you, he's the first man in a long time who hasn't wanted to hurt me. What's not to like?"

"Don't do that. Don't pretend that it's not more than that. We have no idea if we're getting off of this island. Any one of us could die tomorrow. If you feel something for Oliver, if you feel something real, don't push him away."

Felicity's throat was tight with emotion. The man she'd grown to care for in the few weeks that she'd been free of Anthony Ivo wasn't the same reckless and inconsiderate boy that had been shipwrecked here. Ollie Queen had died when his father's ship sank in the North China Sea two years earlier. She knew that, could recognize it without having known that boy. But she still didn't feel right wanting him. What about Sara?

"I – I've seen the way that he is with you… the way that he touches you."

"It doesn't mean anything. Ollie and I will never be anything more than what we were. Two immature and emotionally damaged kids who made a mistake. I don't love him, Felicity, and he definitely doesn't love me."

* * *

 **Starling City 2012**

They were surrounded by a group of Queen Consolidated board members when Diggle interrupted.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Queen, but I need to speak with you and Ms. Smoak. It's urgent."

Felicity fought to keep the fake smile plastered on her face until they were alone in the hallway. She rubbed at her cheeks.

"Ugh, I didn't think Mr. Franklin would ever stop regaling us with those stories about Poppy."

John smirked, "Poppy?"

"His Pomeranian."

He shook his head, chuckling at her exasperation.

"What's going on, John?" Oliver asked.

Diggle schooled his features and Felicity attempted to do the same. He handed them his cell phone with a local news feed queued up. Oliver hit play and they both stared at the tiny screen.

" _Starling City holds its breath as the hostage crisis unfolds. Police have attempted to enter the abandoned structure in the glades but have found rigged explosives that have prevented them from doing so. At the moment there has been no sign of the vigilante as his one hour deadline draws near."_

Panic struck her hard and fast. She gripped the sleeve of Oliver's jacket hard and cast a frantic glance at John.

"An hour? When? When did he issue the deadline?"

Oliver was silent beside her, his knuckles white as he clutched the cell phone in one hand. He was angry. Furious. She could practically feel him vibrating beside her. She loosened her hold, sliding her hand along his forearm until she could lace her fingers with his. She squeezed his hand. She knew that his rage was keeping him from hearing the details John was providing.

"We need to go," she told John gently, "Now."

He nodded, "We'll go out through the garage entrance. Less chance of running into any party goers."

She nodded, watching Digg lead the way before turning to Oliver.

"We're going to get him, Oliver."

"Why me? What does he want?" he asked.

"I don't know. But you'll have a chance to ask him tonight. We have to go. John said we have less than twenty five minutes to get to the scene."

It only took twelve minutes for Felicity to be set up in front of her computers in the lair while Oliver was out in the field.

"Please be careful," she whispered over the comms, "We don't know who this guy is, Oliver, but he's baiting you. Whatever he wants, I don't think he's on our side. Just… just be careful."

He didn't reply. She heard the whoosh of air against his comm and pictured him cutting through the air, his bow sliding roughly along the steel cable like a zipline. She heard his boots hit the roof and his labored breathing but he didn't speak. He was focused on his mission. Rescue the hostages. Find out, finally, what the dark archer wanted with him. And Felicity held her breath as she waited.

"Go now. To the roof. Go."

The hostages. He'd found them.

"What about – what about him?" she heard one of them ask.

"I'll take care of him."

Felicity blew out a breath and scanned the monitors in front of her. The local station on the scene was airing footage of the five hostages pushing through the door and making their way to the edge of the roof.

"They're clear, Oliver. All five are on the roof. The police are extracting them now."

He didn't acknowledge that he'd heard her but Felicity knew that he had. She bit her tongue to keep from spitting out a nervous ramble. There was something different about this mission. Whoever this archer was, he was after Oliver. He had targeted him. This was personal.

"What do you want with me?"

She started at the sound of his voice ringing clearly in her ear.

"He's there, isn't he?" she breathed, fully aware that he wouldn't reply.

The sounds of creaking leather reached her and she could envision the fight the moment that it began. But it ended sooner than she would've liked. She heard his grunts of pain, heard the sounds of a heavy boot colliding with his abdomen over and over. Tears burned in her eyes.

"Oliver! Oliver, please, answer me!"

There was a muffled crash and then Oliver's broken plea for help echoing across the comm.

"Fel – Felicity. Help."


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**A/N:** So I know that it's been a while. Like, a long while. And I know I promised that I wasn't going to give up on this fic or on Mark of the Angel. I swear I haven't given up on either of them. I'm going to try to focus on An Arrow Thru It for a while, see if I can manage to finish this one first before I start working on anything else, at least any other multi-chapter fics. I want to thank all of you who have left words of encouragement on this story, they're so greatly appreciated. I also have to thank my beta **westernbeauty** for sticking with me even though I've made her wait forever for a new chapter of this just like I've made all of you wait. I'd love to know what you think! Enjoy

 **Russia, 2011**

The bright lights of the hospital burned her eyes. She was so tired. Her body ached. Everything ached and Felicity wished that she could sleep again. She wanted to close her eyes and go back to three days ago. Three days ago when she had still been pregnant. When she had still been carrying their child. She swallowed hard, wincing at the bitter taste of stomach acid that wanted to make its way up her throat. She continued to stare at the ceiling, knowing that if she turned her head even a fraction of an inch, she'd find Oliver sitting vigil beside her.

A heavy weight pressed on her chest, a physical manifestation of her emotional state. Her heart hurt. It hurt so badly and she knew that the pain wasn't going away anytime soon. She'd been seventeen weeks into her pregnancy. It hadn't been planned, so little of their lives was, but she'd realized quickly that she wanted it. Felicity wanted a baby, a family, with the man that she loved. And when she'd confessed her desire to bring their baby into the world, Oliver had confessed something of his own. He wanted it, too, a child that they'd made out of love. They'd both been so happy.

Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

They had only known about the baby for nine weeks. Nine weeks of nights spent lying in their bed talking to their unborn child, of days spent browsing the aisles at small shops in the village looking for toys and clothes and essentials, of afternoons discussing baby names and where they would raise their son or daughter once they were free of the Bratva.

And nine weeks was all the time that they'd been given.

A warm hand cupped her jaw, Oliver's thumb skimming below her eye to wipe away her tears, and a strangled sob left her. She squeezed her eyes shut.

" _Dorogaya."_

"I – I'm so sorry, Oliver."

His lips brushed across the apples of her cheeks, over the bridge of her nose, and landed at the corner of her mouth.

"Felicity, sweetheart, please."

His voice was strained as he whispered the words into her skin.

"Our baby," she whimpered, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks, "I-I lost her."

He shook his head and wrapped his arms around her as best that he could. He rested his forehead against hers.

"It's not your fault, Felicity. This isn't your fault."

She was aware of her nails biting into his arms where she held onto him, aware that she had to be hurting him, but Oliver didn't complain and she couldn't let him go. She couldn't look at him. She didn't want to see the sorrow in his expression. She didn't think she'd be able to stomach the disappointment that she knew she would find when she looked into his eyes.

Hot tears dripped down her neck and into the collar of her hospital gown and Felicity couldn't be sure if they were hers or his. He held himself still above her, keeping most of his weight off of her body, but she was certain that he was breaking as badly as she was.

It wasn't often that good things happened to them. They had each other, Anatoly had helped them get married (he'd actually insisted on it), and they were free of Amanda Waller. So when she'd discovered that she was pregnant, when she'd found out that Oliver was happy about the baby, she should have known that it was too good to be true. And she should have known that the damage done to her by Anthony Ivo and his men would follow her around for the rest of her life.

"I want to go home," she pled, her voice strained, "Please, Oliver, I want to go home."

It didn't matter that home was a small, cold, one-room flat in a small village on the westernmost coast of Russia. It didn't matter how much she hated that flat. All that mattered to Felicity in that moment was that she needed to leave the hospital. She wanted to escape the harsh lights and the smell of antiseptic that filled her nose. She needed to leave the place where she had lost her baby.

"I'll go find the doctor."

He brushed his lips across her forehead as he eased away from her. His movements were slow, sluggish and weary, and she could see how exhausted he was. She could see clearly how affected he was. Tears stung her eyes once again.

Recovering from the loss of their child wouldn't be easy for either of them.

 **Starling City, 2012**

Felicity clutched his hand between both of hers. She had situated the only chair in the room as close to the hospital bed as possible, staring at her fiancé's prone form. His fingers were cold.

They had found him unconscious in the alley behind the warehouse, lying in a puddle of blood and barely breathing. The dark red liquid had still been warm as it had soaked into her clothes and stained her hands. John had carried him to the car and Felicity had climbed into the back with him. She'd struggled to get him out of his suit and into his street clothes. He had been heavy lying across her lap and Felicity had fought to keep her emotions in check until they pulled up to the emergency entrance of Starling General.

That had been nearly two hours earlier.

"Fel – Felicity."

Her eyes flew to his face as his hoarse voice broke through her wandering thoughts.

Oliver's eyes were squeezed shut, his brows drawn together, and she watched the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing quickened. A pained gasp escaped him and the hand that she held jerked in her grasp.

Felicity pushed to her feet and leaned over him. She combed her fingers through his damp hair.

"I'm here, baby. I'm right here. You're okay."

He jerked awake suddenly and Felicity took a quick step back, barely avoiding knocking their heads together. She settled herself on the edge of his bed and placed her hand over his heart. He stared up at her with wide, panicked eyes.

"Hey, you're okay, Oliver. You're safe."

One of his hands covered hers, his fingers wrapping tightly around her own, and he lifted it to his lips. His eyes fluttered closed again and his breath left him in a rush.

"He got away."

Felicity sighed, "I don't care about him, Oliver. You're alive, that's what matters to me."

Oliver squeezed her hand but remained silent. She knew that he would be disappointed in the way that his confrontation with the other archer had ended. He'd been bested and had nearly lost his life. She understood him well enough to know that he wouldn't be able to let go of his vendetta. Oliver would hunt the other archer until one of them was taken out of the game permanently.

"You have a collapsed lung and three broken ribs," she told him gently, wincing with him when he breathed too deeply, "You really need to rest."

He shook his head, "I'm fi-"

"Finish that sentence, Oliver Queen, and you'll be sleeping alone for a month. You are far from fine."

One corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile and Felicity clenched her jaw to keep her tears at bay. She felt heat rise in her cheeks and she blinked quickly, hoping to stave off the breakdown she'd been pushing aside since they'd arrived. Oliver sobered quickly at her expression. He tugged her down into his chest and wrapped one arm around her.

"I'm okay, Felicity."

Silence settled over them for a long moment. She couldn't explain the enormity of her relief. When she had heard his choked gasp, the way that his voice had broken on her name, Felicity had though that she'd lost him this time. She'd thought she would never see him again, that she would never get to stand in front of their friends and his family and exchange vows. She wanted to share that with him. But more than anything, Felicity wanted a life with the man that she loved.

"Maybe we should get married," she admitted, "Now. Today."

Oliver's eyes blinked open slowly. The medication that he was on was clearly making him drowsy and she wouldn't force him to stay awake. He needed to rest. But she had to get it all out now while the adrenaline was making her brave.

"Felicity."

She didn't miss the way that his syllables slurred.

She shook her head and reached for his hand. She squeezed his fingers.

"We could. We could call in the chaplain and get married right now. Right here. Just you and me. And John, of course, because we need a witness. We can still have the big, beautiful wedding in a few months. We don't even have to tell Thea and your mom."

Oliver sighed and she could see how much that small action took out of him. His eyes slipped closed again.

"I love you," he whispered.

Felicity grinned, lifting their joined hands to her lips, and brushed a kiss across his knuckles.

"I love you, too, baby."

It wasn't long before his breathing evened out and sleep claimed him. Felicity settled back into the chair she'd dragged to his bedside.

"Oh my god."

She started, whipping her head around to find Thea and Moira standing in the doorway. Walter appeared a moment later.

"Is he –"

"He's fine," she assured them quickly, keeping her voice low as she scrambled out of her chair, "He'll be perfectly fine. "

"What happened? Mr. Diggle says there was an accident," Walter asked.

Felicity nodded, subtly ushering his family into the hallway.

"He – he was kind of upset about … well about everything. The party and – and Thea," she swallowed hard when the young woman teared up, "I'm not saying this is your fault, not at all. Oliver was angry and you know how he is. He just wanted to get away and he wrecked his bike. He's okay. I promise. He'll be tired and sore for a few days but he's going to be fine."

Thea nodded, sending tears spilling down her cheeks. She stepped away, wandering to the end of the hall. Guilt lanced through Felicity as she followed her movements.

"I shouldn't have… I'm sorry. This isn't her fault."

"No, dear, it's alright. We all could've been more understanding. After all that you and Oliver have been through, we all could've made more of an effort to appreciate what he was trying to do and let him enjoy the holiday," Moira said gently, "It's been a long time since anyone in this family has been able to truly appreciate Christmas and all that it means. And it has been a very long time since we've had the opportunity to celebrate as a family."

The sting of tears in her eyes was unexpected, as was the tightness in her throat. She coughed to cover her suddenly surging emotions.

"We'll leave you with him tonight," Walter told her, "Unless you'd like us to take you home."

Felicity shook her head.

"No, no, I – I'm going to stay here with him."

She said goodnight to Walter and Moira and watched as Thea was ushered into the elevator before stepping back into Oliver's room.

Felicity returned to her chair, falling into it heavily and picking up Oliver's hand again.

"I hate hospitals," she muttered, clutching his fingers tightly, "I really, really hate them, Oliver. So I need you to wake up soon so that we can go home."

He didn't stir and she hadn't expected him to. He'd sleep through the night here, his body pumped full of pain meds and recovering from yet another brutal beating. It was a blessing of sorts. She couldn't remember the last time he'd been able to sleep for more than a few hours, the last time he hadn't woken early from her nightmares or his own. If being doped up on a cocktail of antibiotics and narcotics allowed him to truly rest, she could put aside her discomfort and make the best of it.

Her last stay in a hospital had been a little more than a year earlier. She'd been traumatized by the stay. Not because of the doctors that she'd hardly been able to understand. Not because of the treatment that she'd received. No, it had nothing to do with the hospital itself.

She had lost a baby that she'd only just realized that she'd wanted. She had lost a part of herself. Because it had been during that hospital stay that she'd learned the truth about her body and the extent of the damage that had been done to her. And Oliver… Oliver had been forced to suffer right along with her even though she had kept the worst of it locked away. She hadn't wanted him to know. She hadn't wanted him to ever find out that their baby had died because her body wasn't strong enough to keep it alive. She hadn't had the courage to tell him that she would never be strong enough, that she could never carry their child, that she would never be able to give him a family.

She closed her eyes and pulled a deep breath into her lungs. As she exhaled, she pushed away the pain and forced her mind to focus on Oliver, on the feel of his calloused hand in hers.

Felicity woke with a start, her breath catching in her throat, and she felt the gentle drag of his fingers through her hair.

"Hi."

She sat up and stretched, forcing his hand from her head, and sighed. Her eyes flit around the private room that he resided in. Sunlight streamed in through a large window, the warmth of it licking across her skin. She was surprised to discover that she'd slept through the night. She was even more surprised to see Thea curled uncomfortably on the small sofa tucked against the far wall.

"Felicity?"

She blinked tired eyes, turning to Oliver. The grip he hand on her hand tightened.

"How're you feeling?"

He lifted a shoulder, the action making him grimace, and Felicity shook her head.

"I've had worse," he assured her.

She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes and dug her nails – gently – into the back of his hand.

"While I know firsthand that that is true, you're allowed to admit when you're in pain, Oliver. You never have to pretend, not with me."

He sighed and lifted their joined hands to his lips. He brushed a kiss to her fingers.

"I know. You know the same goes for you, right?"

Her gaze flit back to the sleeping teenager in the room and settled there.

"I was so scared… terrified. I – I thought I really lost you last night."

She felt him shift behind her before his hand slid across her tense shoulders. Felicity took a slow, steady breath, and turned her back on Thea. She didn't try to hide the tears in her eyes as she returned Oliver's soft smile.

"I'm sorry."

She shrugged, taking his hand again.

"Not the first time, right? I'm sure it won't be the last."

He sighed, "Felicity, I –"

"Ollie?"

She started at the sound of Thea's voice. Her soon-to-be sister-in-law was a whirlwind as she crossed the short distance to Oliver's hospital bed and practically flung herself into his arms. Felicity didn't miss the pain that colored his expression as Thea clung to him. She touched Thea's shoulder gently.

"Thea, honey, easy. He's hurt, remember?"

His sister backed away, chagrin coloring her expression, and her gaze darted back and forth between them. Felicity smiled at her as she stood.

"I'm going to step out and get some coffee, stretch my legs a bit. I should… make some calls."

Oliver caught her hand before she could step out of his reach.

"Don't go far," he requested, his voice strained, "Please."

She squeezed his fingers.

"Of course not. I'll be back soon. I love you."

Oliver nodded in reply, a tight smile on his face, and she felt his eyes on her as she stepped out into the hallway. She wasn't surprised to find John sitting uncomfortably in a hard plastic chair just across from his room. She dropped into the seat beside him.

"Have you been here all night?" she asked.

Her partner nodded.

"Left for a few hours to grab you both a change of clothes," he nodded to the duffle bag on his other side, "And make sure to clean up any evidence from Oliver's encounter with the Dark Archer."

"Dark Archer? Is that what they're calling him?" she shook her head, "He's going to hate that."

John snorted, "Yep. It's better than the Hood."

Sighing, she looked up and down the hallway, making sure that they were alone.

"He's going to need to step back. Just for a little while. Just until he heals. He won't want to, I know that. But I'm not letting him go back out there until I know that he's alright. Which means…"

"Which means that we need to make sure the vigilante is seen while Oliver Queen is on the mend from his motorcycle accident. Understood. I'll make a few appearances."

"And Oliver and I will build our alibis. We don't need a repeat performance from the SCPD."

It had happened just a few weeks after they'd returned. Oliver had insisted on leading Captain Lance and the SCPD right to their doorstep. It was a diversion. A way to point the finger at themselves in order to convince local law enforcement that they'd gotten it all wrong. She had been hesitant when he'd explained the plan to her and she'd been more than a little surprised when it had worked. Lance had backed off, mostly because his accusations had fallen apart, but she knew that they were being watched.

"When did Thea get here?"

John shrugged, "She stumbled in a couple of hours ago. I don't think she even realized I was sitting here."

Felicity sighed.

"Well how about you and I go get some coffee and leave them to it? I have a feeling that whatever they're talking about in there, it's going to take a while."


End file.
